THE  EXTRA  CLOTH  STYLE. 

The  cheapest  style  is  bound  in  Extra  Cloth,  just  like  this  Canvassing-book,  which 
is  made  to  perfectly  represent  it.  The  strip  of  cloth  opposite  shows  the  back 
of  this  style  and  the  exact  thickness  of  the  complete  book.  Every  copy  of  this 
style  will  have  a  full  gold  back,  just  like  this.  The  gold  used  is  gold.  Its  deep, 
rich  color  shows  its  extra  quality.  It  will  never  tarnish,  never  grow  dim,  and  never 
under  any  circumstances  will  it  change  its  color.  The  publishers  will  pay  $100  to 
any  subscriber  who  will  prove  that  the  gilt  on  any.  portion  of  this  book  is  not  fine 
gold,  and  he  may  make  the  test  in  any  way  he  likes,  or  have  anybody  make  it  for 
him.  Notice  the  beautiful  design  in  gold  on  the  front  cover.  The  edges  of  the 
book  are  finely  sprinkled,  flgir'  E>rn/  copy  is  bound  with  a  spring  bdltk  —  i.  <  .,  the 
back  of  the'book  is  not  glued  to  the  back  of  the  cover;  thus  the  book  can  be  opened 
at  any  place  without  breaking  its  back,  nor  trill  it  break  with  any  fair  usage.  Every 
copy  is  double  sewed  with  extra  strong  linen  thread. 

Considering  its  great  authorship,  its  large  size  (740  pages),  its  251  fine  illus- 
trations, and  the  quality  of  the  paper  and  printing,  this  is  the  nhmpest  bpok  >  m  r  *<>/</ 
by  ag<  nis. 


Ex  fCiforta 


SEYMOUR  DURST 


When  you  leave,  please  leave  this  hook 

Because  it  has  been  said 
" Ever  thing  comes  t'  him  who  waits 

Except  a  loaned  hook." 


  •  •              ,  ,  ■ 

Avery  Architectural  and  Fine  Arts  Library 
Gift  of  Seymour  B.  Durst  Old  York  Library 

Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


http://archive.org/details/darknessdaylightOOcamp_0 


(>}  JtoVL 


- 


Illustrative  Title  Page. 

Tins  is  partly  emblematical  of  the  book.  Here  is  a  young  woman,  a  mission 
worker,  reading  the  Bible  to  a  crowd  of  wicked  looking  men  and  women  in  a 
low  groggery.  Notice  the  ugly-looking  bar-keeper  scowling  behind  the  bar.  He 
does  not  relish  having  the  Bible  read  to  the  human  wrecks  he  has  helped  to  make. 
In  the  upper  corner  is  an  open  Bible,  on  which  is  a  lamp  shedding  light  over  the 
scene  below.  This  typifies  that  in  the  teaching  of  the  Gospel  lies  the  great  hope  of 
leading  these  degraded  creatures  to  better  lives.  Here  we  see  intemperance  and 
vice  on  the  one  hand  and  the  Gospel  and  its  teacher  on  the  other.  Then  notice  the 
beautiful  little  picture  showing  a  policeman  carrying  a  little  foundling  he  has 
picked  up  in  the  street  to  a  police  station-house.  Below  is  a  distant  view  of  the 
great  city,  typical  of  the  field  covered  by  this  volume.  Notice  the  group  of  home- 
less boys,  cuddled  together  to  keep  warm  while  sleeping  out  at  night  in  a  corner  of 
an  alley.  They  have  no  other  place  to  sleep.  Below  is  an  awful  scene,  showing  a 
drunkard  s  starving  and  destitute  family  as  found  in  a  tenement-house  cellar,  sur- 
prised by  the  sudden  flash  of  a  policeman's  dark-lantern.  See  the  look  of  despair 
and  terror  on  every  face.  The  drunkard  himself  is  trying  to  slink  from  the  flash  of 
the  dark-lantern.  This  powerful  picture  shows  the  drunkard's  certain  end,  and  the 
misery  and  woe  that  is  sooner  or  later  caused  by  the  terrible  curSe  of  drink.  No 
minister  can  preach  a  more  powerful  temperance  sermon  than  is  presented  on  this 
page. 


What  this  Work  Is. 

No  recent  publication  on  any  subject  or  by  any  author  is  now  commanding  so 
much  attention  from  the  press,  the  pulpit,  and  the  reading  public  at  this  work, 
which  in  a  single  volume  gives  a  vivid  portrayal  of  life  and  scenes  in  New  York  by 
day  and  by  night  under  three  different  aspects  :  I,  "As  Seen  by  a  Christian 
Woman;"  by  Mrs.  Helen  Campbell.  II,  "As  Seen  by  a  Noted  Journalist;"  by 
Col.  Thomas  W.  Knox.  Ill,  "As  Seen  and  Known  by  the  Famous  Chief  of  the 
New  York  Detective  Force,"  Inspector  Thomas  Byrnes. 


Its  ^High  Moral  Tone. 

This  volume  presents  New  York  life  in  a  manner  at  once  truthful,  impressive,  and 
startling.  It  is  made  both  vivid  and  tragic  by  the  fact  that  its  authors  did  not 
visit  the  slums  and  tough  districts  out  of  morbid  curiosity,  but  as  evangels  of 
religion,  succor,  and  sympathy,  or  in  the  discharge  of  official  duty.  Unlike  most 
books  it  has  a  reason  for  existence  —  a  mission  to  perform  ;  for  Charity,  Temper- 
ance, Honesty,  and  Morality  stand  out  as  beacon  lights  in  every  chapter.  It  is  pure 
and  elevating  from  beginning  to  end,  a  book  in  every  sense  for  the  young  and  old 
of  the  family  circle. 


AN 


ENTIRELY    NEW   AND    ORIGINAL   WORK  MAGNIFICENTLY 
ILLUSTRATED  FROIVI  PHOTOGRAPHS. 


DARKNESS  AND  DAYLIGHT : 

OR 

LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  OF  NEW  YORK  LIFE. 

UJoman's  Karratiuc 

OF 

MISSION  WORK  IN  TOUGH  PLACES,  WITH  THRILLING  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 
AMONG  THE  POOR,  THE  HOMELESS,  THE  VICIOUS  AND  THE  DE- 
PRAVED IN  THE  GREAT  UNDER-WORLD  OF  NEW  YORK. 

INCLUDING  AN  ACCOUNT  OF 

RESCUE  WORK  IN  REGIONS  OF  POVERTY  AND  VICE;  AN  ALL-NIGHT  MISSION- 
ARY'S EXPERIENCES  IN  GOSPEL  WORK  IN  THE  SLUMS  ;  A  JOURNALISTS 
ACCOUNT  OF  LITTLE-KNOWN  PHASES  OF  METROPOLITAN  LIFE; 
AND  A  FAMOUS  DETECTIVE'S  EXPERIENCES  AND  OBSERVA- 
TIONS AMONG  THE  DANGEROUS  AND  CRIMINAL  CLASSES. 

WITH  HUNDREDS  OF 

UbnUtuG  Hnecfcotes,  flnci&ente,  an&  XTales  of  Uenfcer  patbos 

PORTRAYING 

LIFE  IN  DARKEST  NEW  YORK  BY  DAY  AND  BY  NIGHT. 


Mrs.  HELEN  CAMPBELL, 

Author  and  Philanthropist. 

Col.  THOMAS  W.  KNOX,        Inspector  THOMAS  BYRNES, 
Author  and  Journalist.  Chief  of  the  N.  Y.  Detective  Force. 

Superbly  Wlustrateb  untb 
Two  Hundred  and  Fifty  Engravings  from  Photographs 

TAKEN  FROM  LIFE  EXPRESSLY  FOR  THIS  WORK,  MOSTLY  BY  FLASH-LIGHT,  AND  REPRODUCED 
IN  EXACT  FAC-SIMILE  BY  EMINENT  ARTISTS. 

SOLD  ONL  Y  BY  SUB  SCR  IP  TION. 

(THIS    WORK    IS    NOT    FOR    SALE    IN   BOOKSTORES,    NOR    WILL   IT   EVER    BE.       IT    WILL  BE 
SUPPLIED  ONLY  TO  SUBSCRIBERS  THROUGH  OUR  AUTHORIZED  AGENTS.) 

IIAETFOED,  CONK: 
A.  D.  WORTHINGTOX  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS. 

1891. 


[All  rights  resi  rved.  I 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1891, 
By  A.  D.  Worthington  and  Company, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


THIS  volume  aims  to  give  scrupulously  exact  descriptions  of 
life  and  scenes  in  the  great  metropolis  under  three  differ- 
ent aspects:  1st,  "As  Seen  by  a  Woman;"  2d,  uAs  Seen  by 
a  Journalist ; "  3d,  u  As  Seen  and  Known  by  the  Chief  of  the 
New  York  Detective  Bureau."  It  was  essential  that  each  of 
the  writers  selected  for  this  undertaking  should  possess  a  thor- 
ough practical  knowledge  of  the  subject,  combined  with  ability 
to  describe  what  they  have  seen  and  experienced. 

The  first  division  was  assigned  to  Mrs.  Helen  Campbell, 
whose  life  has  been  spent  in  New  York  city,  and  whose  well- 
known  sympathies  for  the  poor  and  unfortunate,  combined 
with  long  experience  in  city  missionary  work  and  charitable 
enterprises,  peculiarly  fitted  her  for  this  portion  of  the  work. 
Her  interest  in  missions  and  her  labors  among  the  lower  classes 
have  brought  her  face  to  face  with  squalor  and  misery  among 
the  hopelessly  poor,  as  well  as  with  degraded  men  and  women 
in  their  own  homes ;  while  her  ready  sympathy  gained  for  her 
access  to  their  hearts,  and  thus  gave  her  a  practical  insight  into 
their  daily  life  possessed  by  few.  Who  but  a  woman  could 
describe  to  women  the  scenes  of  sin,  sorrow,  and  suffering 
among  this  people  that  have  presented  themselves  to  her  wo- 
manly eye  and  heart  ? 

To  Col.  Thomas  W.  Knox  was  assigned  the  task  of  delineat- 
ing phases  of  city  life  that  a  trained  journalist  of  many  years' 
experience  in  New  York  is  more  familial'  with  than  almost  any 
other  person.    To  the  advantages  of  his  facile  pen  and  quick 

(vii) 


Vlll 


publishers'  preface. 


observation,  born  of  long  newspaper  work,  are  added  those  of 
a  lifetime  spent  in  the  great  city  and  perfect  familiarity  with 
many  features  of  metropolitan  life  which  he  so  well  describes. 

To  Chief  Inspector  Thomas  Byrnes,  the  famous  head  of  the 
New  York  Detective  Bureau, —  the  most  efficient  bureau  of  its 
kind  in  the  world, —  the  public  is  indebted  for  the  faithful  de- 
scriptions of  criminal  life  and  detective  experiences  given  in 
this  volume.  For  thirty  years  he  has  been  connected  with  the 
police  force  of  New  York,  working  his  way  up  from  the  rank 
of  patrolman  to  his  present  high  and  responsible  position.  For 
many  years  he  has  been  constantly  and  prominently  before  the 
public  as  a  detective  of  wonderful  skill  and  unerring  sagacity. 
The  very  nature  of  his  life-work  has  brought  him  into  close 
contact  with  crime,  destitution,  and  vice,  and  has  given  him 
exceptional  opportunities  for  the  study  of  life  among  the  dan- 
gerous classes.  More  than  any  other  man  he  knows  the  meth- 
ods and  characteristics  of  " crooks"  of  high  and  low  degree, 
and  possesses  a  thorough  knowledge  of  their  haunts. 

When  the  manuscripts  of  these  joint  authors  were  placed  in 
the  publishers'  hands,  they  for  the  first  time  realized  the  great 
importance  of  the  work  they  had  undertaken.  In  genuine 
interest  and  graphic  description  it  exceeded  anything  they  had 
hoped  for,  and  their  estimate  of  its  worth  grew  with  closer  ex- 
amination. The  original  plan  of  the  book  included  but  a  few 
full-page  illustrations ;  but  the  sterling  character  of  the  work  as 
revealed  by  reading  the  manuscript, —  its  authenticity,  incontro- 
vertible facts,  and  startling  revelations, — led  the  publishers  to 
believe  that  it  ought  to  be  illustrated  with  more  than  common 
fullness  and  in  the  most  truthful  and  realistic  manner.  But 
how  could  this  be  accomplished? 

The  old  method  of  employing  artists  of  quick  talent  to  seize 
the  general  outline  of  a  scene,  and  by  a  few  rapid  strokes  of  a 
pencil  preserve  the  general  idea,  until,  in  the  studio,  leisure  was 
found  to  enlarge  the  hasty  sketch  and  reproduce  the  details 
from  memory,  was  open  to  serious  objection ;  for  in  this  way 
everything  is  left  to  the  artist,  whose  generally  exuberant  and 
sometimes  distorted  imagination  has  full  swing,  and  in  addition 


publishers'  preface. 


ix 


the  method  is  exceedingly  faulty  in  having  to  rely  upon  one  of 
the  most  treacherous  of  human  faculties  —  the  memory.  Such 
pictures  can  only  approximate  to  the  reality:  they  may  be  — 
and  often  are  —  very  wide  of  the  truth.  The  publishers  were 
satisfied  that  illustrations  produced  in  this  way  could  not  show 
the  fidelity  to  nature  that  the  text  demanded.  Here  the 
modern  camera  came  to  their  aid,  and  it  alone  is  the  basis  lor 
every  illustration  in  this  volume.  In  deciding  to  adopt  the 
camera  as  a  means  to  an  end,  they  little  dreamed  of  the  labor, 
time,  and  expense  which  the  undertaking  involved. 

Recent  developments  in  photography  have  rendered  it  pos- 
sible to  catch  instantaneously  all  the  details  of  a  scene  with  the 
utmost  fidelity.  The  publishers  and  their  photographer  ex- 
plored the  city  together  for  months,  by  day  and  by  night, 
seeking  for  living  material  on  the  streets,  up  narrow  alleys 
and  in  tenement  houses,  in  missions  and  charitable  institutions, 
in  low  lodging-houses  and  cellars,  in  underground  resorts  and 
stale-beer  dives,  in  haunts  of  criminals  and  training-schools  of 
crime,  and  in  nooks  and  corners  known  only  to  the  police  and 
rarely  visited  by  any  one  else.  These  two  hundred  and  fifty 
remarkable  pictures  were  selected  from  upwards  of  a  thousand 
photographs  taken  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night.  Many  of 
them  were  taken  at  moments  when  the  people  portrayed  would 
rather  have  been  anywhere  else  than  before  the  lens1  eye. 
By  far  the  greater  part  of  them  were  made  by  flash-light, 
without  the  aid  of  which  much  of  the  life  herein  shown  so 
truthfully  could  not  have  been  presented  at  all.  Some  of 
them  were  made  under  circumstances  of  great  difficulty, 
in  dimly-lighted  holes  and  in  underground  places,  literally  "  in 
darkest  New  York,"  where  the  light  of  day  never  penetrates. 
Not  a  few  were  made  long  after  midnight,  for  there  are 
phases  of  city  life  that  cannot  be  seen  at  any  other  time.  As  a 
whole  these  illustrations  depict  many  and  varied  scenes  of 
every -day  life  and  all-night  life  which  go  to  make  the  sum  of 
New  York's  daily  history. 

The  dark  side  of  life  is  presented  without  any  attempt  to 
tone  it  down,  and  foul  places  are  shown  just  as  they  exist.  Any 


X 


publishers'  preface. 


one  who  undertakes  to  "see  life"  in  the  haunts  of  vice  and 
crime  in  New  York,  especially  by  night,  takes  his  life  in  his 
own  hand,  and  courts  danger  in  many  forms.  Criminals  arc  a 
suspicions  class.  The  appearance  of  a  camera  in  their  midst  at 
once  suggests  to  them  the  Rogues'  Gallery,  and  recalls  to  their 
mind  crimes  known  only  to  themselves.  It  is  not  pleasant,  in 
underground  dens,  where  hardened  criminals  and  the  vilest  out- 
casts hide  from  the  light  of  day,  to  be  mistaken  for  detectives 
in  search  of  their  prey;  nor  is  it  pleasant  to  spend  day  after 
day  in  vermin-infested  tenements  and  oozy  cellars  waiting  for 
opportunities  to  portray  some  particularly  desired  scene.  It  is 
dangerous  to  breathe  for  hours  at  a  time  an  atmosphere  poisoned 
with  nauseating  effluvia;  it  is  hazardous  to  be  surrounded  in 
narrow  alleys  by  a  crowd  of  toughs  who  believe  that  bricks 
and  other  missiles  were  specially  designed  for  the  benefit  of 
strangers.  There  are  hundreds  of  places  in  New  York  where 
even  the  air  of  respectability  is  an  element  of  personal  danger. 

In  midnight  expeditions  it  was  often  necessary  to  creep 
stealthily  into  a  locality  where  it  was  known  that  night  life  at 
its  worst  existed.  The  camera  was  quickly  and  silently  ad- 
justed in  the  dark,  and  the  sudden  and  blinding  flash  of  the 
magnesium  light  was  generally  the  first  knowledge  the  subject 
had  of  the  presence  of  photographers ;  but  the  knowledge  came 
too  late  to  prevent  the  lightning  work  of  the  camera,  which  in 
the  two-hundredth  part  of  a  second  had  faithfully  fixed  the 
scene  on  the  sensitive  plate.  Surprise  and  wonder  were  often 
followed  by  oaths  and  threats  that  were  of  no  avail,  for  the 
camera  had  done  its  work. 

In  some  of  these  pictures  will  be  seen  —  in  their  own  haunts 
and  amid  their  own  surroundings  —  lineaments  of  old  and  well- 
known  criminals,  both  men  and  women,  together  with  those  of 
younger  years  just  entering  upon  a  life  of  crime  and  degrada- 
tion, and  of  some  whose  footsteps  have  barely  touched  the 
t  hreshold.  In  no  instance  have  artists  been  allowed  to  exercise 
their  imagination  by  drawing  pictures  of  impossible  scenes,  or 
exaggerating  what  is  already  bad  enough.  The  fact  that  every 
illustration  in  this  volume  is  from  a  photograph  made  from  life, 


publishers'  preface. 


xi 


and  that  the  greatest  care  has  been  taken  to  present  these 
photographs  in  fac-simile,  even  to  the  preservation  of  the  por- 
traits, are  features  that  will  commend  themselves  to  all. 

It  is  said  that  figures  do  not  lie.  Neither  does  the  camera. 
In  looking  on  these  pages  the  reader  is  brought  face  to  face 
with  real  life  as  it  is  in  New  York ;  not  AS  IT  WAS,  but  AS 
IT  IS  TO-DAY.  Exactly  as  the  reader  sees  these  pictures, 
just  so  were  the  scenes  presented  to  the  camera's  merciless  and 
unfailing  eye  at  the  moment  when  the  action  depicted  took 
place.  Nothing  is  lacking  but  the  actual  movement  of  the  per- 
sons represented. 

Here,  then,  are  presented  to  the  reader  faithful  pictorial 
representations  of  street  life  in  New  York  by  day  and  by  night ; 
scenes  in  various  well-known  Christian  missions  in  tough  dis- 
tricts, their  audiences,  services,  and  so  forth ;  gospel  work  by 
day  and  by  night  by  mission-workers  and  rescue-bands  in  the 
vilest  slums ;  scenes  of  hospital  life  and  in  charitable  institu- 
tions ;  in  cheap  lodging  houses  and  cellars ;  in  back  streets  and 
alleys ;  in  dens  of  infamy  and  crime,  where  the  dangerous 
classes  congregate  ;  in  the  homes  of  the  poor ;  in  wretched  tene- 
ment districts,  where  the  horror  of  the  life  that  is  lived  by 
human  beings  herded  together  by  thousands  is  well-nigh  in- 
credible ;  in  newsboys'  lodging  houses  ;  in  the  police,  detective, 
and  fire  departments ;  in  opium-joints  and  among  the  denizens 
of  Chinatown ;  among  the  Italians  of  Mulberry  Street,  and 
along  its  famous  "  Bend,"  —  these  and  many  other  topics  are 
here  presented  in  the  best  pictorial  manner,  and  always  with 
strict  regard  to  truth. 

The  publishers  return  their  sincere  thanks  to  all  who  have 
in  any  way  helped  them  in  this  arduous  undertaking.  Their 
grateful  acknowledgments  are  due  to  the  Board  of  Police  Com- 
missioners, and  to  Chief  Inspector  Thomas  Byrnes,  without 
whose  aid  many  rare  photographs  could  not  have  been  made  ; 
to  the  captains  of  various  police  precincts,  who  on  numerous 
occasions  detailed  special  detectives  to  pilot  and  accompany  the 
photographers  to  places  known  only  to  the  police  ;  to  the  offi- 
cers of  the  Children's  Aid  Society,  and  of  the  Society  for  the 


Xll 


PUBLISHERS  PREFACE. 


Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Children  ;  to  the  superintendents  of 
the  Florence  Nighl  Mission,  the  Water  Street  Mission,  and  the 
Cremorne  Mission;  to  Sister  Irene,  of  the  New  York  Found- 
Ling  Asylum  ;  to  the  president  of  the  Board  of  Public  Chari- 
ties and  Correction,  and  to  the  Board  of  Fire  Commissioners. 
Unfailing  courtesies  were  extended  on  every  hand,  and  made  it 
possible  to  secure  new  and  desirable  material  that  has  never 
hitherto  been  presented. 

The  publishers'  thanks  are  especially  due  to  Mr.  O.  (J. 
M  ason  (at  present  and  for  the  past  twenty-five  years  official 
photographer  at  Bellevue  Hospital),  to  whose  rare  skill  they 
are  indebted  for  many  fine  photographs  made  expressly  for 
this  volume.  In  photographing  difficult  scenes,  Mr.  Mason's 
skill  could  be  relied  upon  implicitly.  Nearly  all  of  the  photo- 
graphs from  which  the  full-page  engravings  were  made  were 
taken  by  flash-light  by  him,  as  well  as  many  of  those  for  the 
smaller  illustrations.  Always  ready  for  emergencies,  possess- 
ing ability  and  facilities  to  instantly  meet  them,  he  was  in 
every  way  the  right  man  in  the  right  place.  Mr.  E.  Wak- 
rin,  Jr.,  Mr.  Frederick  Vilmar,  and  Mr.  Jacob  A.  Rus,  also 
placed  at  their  disposal  large  collections  of  photographs  from 
which  very  interesting  selections  have  been  made. 

The  whole  work  has  passed  under  the  editorial  supervision 
of  Mr.  E.  E.  Treffry,  of  New  York,  and  the  publishers  are 
indebted  to  his  experience  for  many  valuable  suggestions. 


3from  Special  fl>botosrapb0  taken  from  Xife  ejpressls  for  tbts  movk. 
Drawn  in  facsimile  b£  ffreDerick  SHelman,  Wim.  %.  SbcpparD, 
JEOmunD  1b.  Garrett,  1R.  Z.  Spcrr^,  anD  otber  eminent  Brtiste. 


1  PORTRAIT  OF  MRS.  HELEN  CAMPBELL.  Engraved 

on  Steel  fkom  a  Photograph  taken  expressly  fob 

this  work,  ......  Frontispiece 

2  ILLUSTRATED  TITLE  PAGE,  (full  page.)       To  face  Frontispiece 

PAGE. 

3  Ornamental  Heading  to  Publisher's  Preface,        .  .  7 

4  Ornamental  Heading  to  List  of  Illustrations,  .  13 

5  Ornamental  Heading  to  Table  op  Contents,  .         .  21 

6  Ornamental  Heading  to  Introduction,         ...  37 

7  Introductory  Illustration  to  Part  I,  ...  47 

8  Ornamental  Heading  to  Chapter  I,  .         .  .49 

9  The  Water  Street  Mission,       .....  52 

10  The  Platform  facing  the  Audience  in  the  Water  Street 

Mission  Room,     .......  59 

11  "All  my  Drinks  3  Cents." — An  Every  day  Scene  near  the 

Water  Street  Mission,         .         ....  62 

12  Tablet  to  the  Memory  of  Jerry  McAuley  on  the  Wall  of 

the  Water  Street  Mission  Room,    ....  81 

13  COFFEE  NIGHT  AT  THE  OLD  WATER  STREET  MIS- 

SION.—  A  WEEKLY  FEAST  FOR  TRAMPS,  OUTCASTS, 

AND  BUMS,     (full  fl>ac$e.)     .         .         .  To  face  87 

14  Entrance  to  a  Tenement-House  and  Alley. —  The  door  at 

the  left  leads  directly  into  a  tenement.  the  arch- 
wat  at  the  right  is  a  da  re  passageway  leading  to 
filthy  yards  and  tenements  in  the  rear,  .         .  90 

15  A  Typical  Tenement-House  Backyard,         .         .         .  92 

16  A  Tenement-House  on  Hamilton  Street  knows  as  "The 

Snip." — 1,  Narrow  Entrance  to  the  Rear  leaden*;  to 

the  Garret  Rooms,      ......  94 

(13) 


14 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


17  A  Room  and  its  Occupant   as  found  in  tup:  Garret  op 

"The  Ship,"      .......  96 

18  Out  of  Work.    A  'Longshoreman's  Family  and  Home,      .  98 

19  An  Everyday  Scene  in  a  Tenement-House  Alley,  .         .  101 

20  Sick  and  Destitute.   A  Group  as  found  in  a  Cherry  Street 

Tenement,          .......  103 

21  A  Morning  Wash  at  the  Backyard  Hydrant,         .         .  104 

22  In  a  Tenement-House  Backyard  in  Mulberry  Street,      .  105 

23  A  Ragpicker's  Cellar  in  an  Alley  off  Baxter  Street,     .  107 

24  A  Tenement-House  Backyard,  looking  through  the  Hall 

into  the  Street,         ......  109 

25  THEIR  ONLY    BED. —  SUPPERLESS    AND  HOMELESS 

STREET    BOYS    SLEEPING    OUT   AT    NIGHT.  —  A 

NIGHT  SCENE  IN  AN  ALLEY,    (tfull  page.)     To  face  112 

26  Getting  Points  from  the  Last  Edition,        .         .         .  115 

27  "Ext-r-a-h  'Dishun,"        .         .         .         ...  .118 

28  The  Schoolroom  and  General  Reception-Room  in  the 

Newsboys'  Lodging-House,     .         .         .         .  .121 

29  Boys  Applying  for  a  Night's  Lodging,          .         .         .  123 

30  WAIFS  AND  STRAYS  OF  A  GREAT  CITY.— A  GROUP 

OF  HOMELESS    NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS  PHOTO- 
GRAPHED FROM  LIFE.     (ff  ull  page.)     .           To  face  124 

31  The  Washroom    in    the   Newsboys'  Lodging-House  just 

before  Supper  Time,    ......  127 

32  In  one  of  the  Dormitories  in  the  Newsboys'  Lodging-House,  129 

33  The  Gymnasium  in  the  Newsboys'  Lodging-House,  .         .  132 

34  An  Evening  Game  of  Dominoes  in  the  Newsboys'  Lodging- 

House,    134 

35  Old  Women  Waiting  at  the  Dining-Room  Door  for  Scraps 

from  the  Newsboys'  Table,   .....  136 

36  In  the  Crippled  Boys'  Brush  Shop,      .         .         .  .138 

37  Tired  Out.   A  Factory  Girl's  Room  in  a  Tenement-House,  142 

38  The  Little  Coal-Shovelers,      .....  146 

39  Making  Artificial  Flowers  at  Twelve  Cents  a  Gross,    .  147 

40  A  Group  of  Street  Boys,  as  found  on  Doyers  Street,     .  151 

41  A  Group  of  Bootblacks,  ......  152 

42  A  Sleeping  Street  Boy,    .         .         .         .         .  .154 

43  HOMELESS  AND  FRIENDLESS,    (ffull  fl>acjC.)         To  face  154 


44  Gutter  Children,  .......  158 

45  A  Gang  of  Dock  Rats  Basklng  in  the  Sunshine,     .  .  160 

46  Street  Boys  Sleeping  on  the  Docks,  .  .         .  .163 

47  A  Dock  Rat's  Day  Nap  after  an  All-Night  Tour,  .  164 

48  A  Favorite  Pastime  for  Dock  Rats,    .  .         .  .165 

49  Patrick  Lacey,  as  found,  Age   10:  Face  cut,  bruised, 

AND  SWOLLEN    BY  BEATINGS  FROM  DRUNKEN  PARENTS,  .  175 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


THIS  is  the  most  sumptuously  illustrated  book  ever  published  in  America.  It  con- 
tains 251  superb  illustrations  made  from  photographs  taken  from  life,  mostly  bp 
flash-light,  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night.  Nothing  like  them  was  ever  before 
attempted.  In  looking  at  these  illustrations  the  reader  is  brought  face  to  face  with 
real  life  as  it  exists  in  the  great  under-world  of  New  York.  Exactly  as  he  sees  these 
pictures,  just  so  were  the  scenes  presented  to  the  camera's  unfailing  eye  when  the 
photographs  were  made.  He  sees  at  a  glance  just  how  Gospel  work  is  carried  on 
by  day  and  by  night  by  rescue-bands  in  the  vilest  slums  ;  he  witnesses  pathetic 
scenes  of  hospital  life  ;  he  is  shown  strange  sights  in  cheap  lodging  houses  and 
cellars  ;  in  back  streets  and  alleys  ;  in  the  homes  of  the  poor  ;  in  wretched  tenement 
districts  ;  in  newsboys'  lodging-houses  ;  in  the  police,  detective,  and  fire  depart- 
ments ;  in  the  museum  of  crime  ;  in  opium-joints.  The  greatest  care  has  been 
taken  to  preserve  the  portraits.  These  illustrations  are  said  to  be,  and  unquestion- 
ably they  are,  the  finest  and  most  interesting  series  of  engravings  ever  put  into  a 
single  volume.  This  is  a  pretty  strong  statement,  but  it  is  barked  up  by  the  ablest 
critics  and  higliest  authorities  in  our  whole  country. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  15 

50  Patrick  Kieley,  as  found  half-starved,  Age  11:  Face  cut 

and  body  bruised  by  inhuman  parents,      .          .          .  177 

51  John  and  Willie  I)  ,  two  Boy  Tramps,  Brothers,  as 

they  appeared  when  arrested,      ....  178 

52  Michael  Nevins,   as  found,  Age  10 :   Face  bruised  and 

swollen  by  constant  beating,         ....  180 

53  Nellie  Brady,  as  found,  Age  7,           ....  183 

54  Nellie  Brady,  after  a  day  in  the  Society's  care.  Never 

claimed,    ........  184 

55  Entrance  to  the  Cremorne  Mission,    ....  186 

56  The  Reading  Desk  in  the  Cremorne  Mission  Room,           .  188 

57  Drinking  Fountain  Erected  to  the  Memory  of  Jerry  Mc- 

Auley  near  the  Cremorne  Mission,  .         .  .189 

58  Bronze  Tablet  to  the  Memory  of  Jerry  McAuley  on  the 

Wall  of  the  Cremorne  Mission  Room,      .         .  .193 

59  A  Tenement-House  Backyard  in  the  Italian  Quarter,    .  197 

60  Italian  Garbage  Women  on  Mulberry  Street,      .         .  200 

61  Station-House  Prison  Cells,      .....  206 

62  Homeless  Boys  Sleeping  in  a  Coal  Cellar,  .         .         .  214 

63  A  Familiar  Scene  in  Water  Street,    ....  226 

64  The  Florence  Night  Mission  Building,          .          .          .  228 

65  Midnight  Lunch  for  Street  Girls  after  Evening  Service 

at  the  Florence  Night  Mission,      ....  229 

66  AN    UNDERGROUND   STALE -BEER   DIVE    LATE  AT 

NIGHT  IN  MULBERRY  STREET  BEND,  (jfull  fl>acje.) 

•y  /  •  |B        To  face  230 

67  An  Every-day  and  Every-night  Scene  in  a  Stale-Beer  Dive,  233 

68  A  Stale-Beer  Dive  on  Mulberry  Street  by  Day,  .         .  235 

69  The  Girls'  Industrial  Room  at  the  Florence  Night  Mission,  240 

70  GOSPEL  WORK  IN  THE  SLUMS.—  MIDNIGHT  SERVICE 

OF  A  MISSION  RESCUE  BAND  IN  AN  UNDERGROUND 

DIVE  IN  MULBERRY  STREET,    (ffull  page.)     To  face  242 

71  Doyers  Street,  known  locally  as  "  Shinbone  Alley,"      .  252 

72  Finishing  Boys'  Pants  at  Ten  Cents  a  Dozen  Pairs,         .  261 

73  A  Blind  Tailoress  and  Her  Family,    ....  264 

74  Under  the  Shadow  of  the  Great  Bridge,     .         .          .  271 

75  In  a  Poor  Sewing  Woman's  Home,       ....  275 

76  A  Night  Scrub  Woman's  Home,  .         .         .         .  .277 

77  The  Ambulance  Room  at  Bellevue  Hospital.  Answering 

a  "Hurry"  Call,        ......  282 

78  A  Bellevue  Hospital  Nurse,     .....  284 

79  A  CRITICAL    CASE.  —  A    BED-SIDE  CONSULTATION 

FOR  THE  BENEFIT  OF  STUDENTS  AND  NURSES  IN 

BELLEVUE  HOSPITAL,    (jfull  page.)                  To  fact  289 

80  A  Surgical  Operation  at  Bellevue  Hospital,         .         .  291 


1G 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


81 

In  one  of  the  Female  Wards  at  Belleyue  Hospital, 

293 

82 

In  the  Children's  Ward  at  Bellevue  Hospital, 

295 

83 

Discharged.    A  Patient  Receiving  her  Bundle  of  Clothes 

in  the  Old  Clothes  Room  at  Bellevue  Hospital, 

297 

84 

AN  EVERY-DAY  SCENE  IN  THE  MORGUE.— IDENTI- 

FYING THE  UNKNOWN  DEAD.    (Jfull  jpacje.) 

To  face 

301 

85 

The  "Cage,"  or  Prisoners'  Ward  at  Bellevue  Hospital, 

302 

86 

In  the  Propagating  Room, 

307 

87 

88 

The  View  from  the  Schoolroom, 
Winners  of  the  Prize, 

309 
311 

89 

Italian  Mother  and  her  Sick  Child  at  the  Dispensary,  . 

321 

90 

SATURDAY  MORNING  IN  THE  GREAT  EASTERN  FREE 
DISPENSARY.— RELIEVING  DISTRESS  AMONG  THE 

SICK  POOR,  (full  ipaoe.)  . 

To  face 

322 

91 

In  the  Surgeon's  Room,  .... 

326 

92 

A  Hopeless  Case.    Examining  a  Patient's  Lungs  with  the 

Stethoscope,      .  \ 

327 

93 

A  Hebrew  Mother  and  her  Sick  Baby, 

328 

94 

The  Doctor  Looking  for  Vaccination  Scars,  . 

329 

95 

The  Tombs,    .         .         .         .  ." 

336 

96 

The  Gallows  Yard  in  the  Tombs, 

338 

97 

Prison  Cells  for  Females  in  the  Tombs, 

340 

98 
99 

Murderers'  Row  in  the  Tombs, 
Discharged  Convicts  Making  Brooms,  . 

344 
354 

100 

An  East  River  Dock, 

357 

101 

In  the  Cell.    Blackwell's  Island  Penitentiary, 

3b5 

102 

Prisoners'  Cells  in  the  Penitentiary,  Blackwell's 
(The  dark  cells  are  on  the  lower  floor), 

Island. 

103 

husbandless  mothers  and  fatherless  children 
Charity  Hospital,  Blackwell's  Island, 

IN  THE 

370 

104 

Insane  Patients  in  the  Brush  Shop,  Blackwell's  Island,  . 

6  (6 

105 

Insane  Patients  in  the  Basket  Shop,  Blackwell's 

Island, 

375 

106 

Lunatics'  Chariot,  drawn  by  Lunatics  chained  together,  . 

377 

107 

The  Convicts'  Lockstep,  .... 

3(9 

108 

The  Mother's  Last  Kiss,  .... 

109 

Sister  Irene's  Basket,  .... 

383 

110 

Foster  Mothers,  ..... 

380 

111 

The  Children's  Clothes  Room,  . 

386 

112 

One  of  the  Nursery  Wards, 

387 

113 

The  Playroom, 

389 

114 

The  Kindergarten,  .... 

390 

115 

Foundlings'  Bank  at  Entrance  to  Main  Staircase 

392 

116 

In  the  Children's  Dormitory  at  Sister  Irene's, 

393 

117 

The  Little  Waif's  Evening  Prayer,  . 

394 

LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


17 


118   "  NOW  I  LAY  ME  DOWN  TO  SLEEP." — BEDTIME  IN  THE 
HOMELESS  LITTLE  GIRLS'  DORMITORY  AT  THE  FIVE 


POINTS  HOUSE  OF  INDUSTRY,    (ffull  fl>age.)     To  face  397 

119  Curbstone  Gossip  in  Mulberry  Street,         .         .         .  398 

120  Sidewalk  Pease  Seller,  Mulberry  Street,  .         .         .  399 

121  Curbstone  Beans  Seller,  Mulberry  Street,  .  .  401 

122  Push-Cart  Brigade  in  the  Great  Bund,  Mulberry  Street,  402 

123  Sidewalk  Bread  Seller,  Mulberry  Street,  .         .  .  403 

124  Curbstone  Vegetable  Vender,  Mulberry  Street,  .         .  404 

125  Italian  Ragpickers'  Settlement,  Mulberry  Street,         .  405 

126  Sidewalk  Vegetable  Stands,  Mulberry  Street,     .         .  407 

127  Sidewalk  Turnip  Seller,  Mulberry  Street,  .         .  408 

128  Italian  Ragpicker  Mending  his  Bags,  Mulberry  Street,  .  409 

129  A  Cluster  of  Shanties  in  Shantytown,         .  .  .  412 

130  Backyard  of  a  Shanty  in  Shantytown,  .  .  .  416 

131  A  Thrifty  German's  Shanty  in  Shantytown.     Ten  Cows 

kept  in  a  low  shed  on  the  premises,        .         .  .417 

132  A  Typical  "Establishment"  in  Shantytown,  .  .  418 

133  A  Police  Station-House  Lodging-Room,         .         .         .  420 

134  Midnight  in  the  Women's   Lodging-Room    at  a  Police 

Station-House,   .......  421 

135  "Sitters"  in  the  Women's  Lodging-Room  at  the  Police 

Station-House,   .......  423 

136  Entrance  to  a  Shed  Lodging-House  in  the  Rear  of  Mul- 

berry Street,     .......  426 

137  EARLY  MORNING  IN  A   SHED  LODGING-HOUSE  IX 

THE   REAR   OF   MULBERRY    STREET. —  GETTING 
READY  FOR    ANOTHER    DAY   OF  IDLENESS  OR 

CRIME,    (ffull  page.)   ....  Toface  428 

138  A  Corner  in  a  Lodging-Shed  by  Day,  ....  431 

139  A  "Reserved"  Room  in  a  Lodging-Shed,      .         .         .  432 

140  The  Schoolshtp  St.  Mary's,         .....  435 

141  Boys'  Schoolroom  between  Decks  on  the  St.  Mary's,       .  437 

142  The  Sail-Making  Class  on  the  St.  Mary's.    .         .         .  439 

143  Learning  to  Splice  Ropes  on  the  St.  Mary's,         .         .  442 

144  "Up  Aloft."    A  Drill  Scene  on  the  St.  Mary's,    .         .  444 

145  Ready  for  Sea.    A  Scene  on  the  St.  Mary's,         .         .  446 

146  Peaceful  Industries  at  the  Sailors'  Snug  Harbor.  Old 

sailors  making  miniature  ships,       ....  447 

147  A  Crippled  Sailor  Weaving  Baskets,  ....  450 

148  A  One-Armed  Naval  Veteran  with  a  Perfect  Model  of 

the  Flag-Ship  "  Hartford,"  made  with  his  Left  Hand,  451 

149  A  Contented  Old  Salt,    ......  453 

150  Introductory  Illustration  to  Part  II,  .         .  .455 


18 

LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

151 

PORTRAIT  OF  COL.  THOMAS  W.  KNOX.    Engraved  on 

Steel  from  a  Photograph  taken  expressly  for  this 

work,       ......          To  face 

459 

152 

Ornamental  Heading  to  Opening  Chapter  of  Part  II, 

459 

153 

Exterior  of  a  Bowery  Dime  Museum,  .... 

465 

154 

In  a  Bowery  Dime  Museum.    The  lecturer,  his  freaks, 

AND  HIS  AUDIENCE,  ...... 

467 

155 

In  a  Ragpicker's  Cellar,  Baxter  Street, 

471 

156 

Among  the  Tenements  in  the  Rear  of  Mulberry  Street, 

477 

157 

A  Typical  Tenement-House  Alley,  .... 

479 

158 

A  Group  as  Found  in  a  Tenement-House  Cellar, 

481 

159 

A  Ragpicker's  Room  in  a  Tenement-House,  . 

482 

160 

A  Training-School  of  Crime.    Boys  playing  pickpocket,  . 

484 

161 

A  Tenement-House  Alley  Gang.    Candidates  for  crime,  . 

485 

162 

An  Alley  Trio.    As  found  in  a  Mulberry  Street  Alley, 

487 

163 

Interior  of  a  Low  Groggery  on  Cherry  Street,  . 

489 

164 

An  Old  Corner  Groggery  near  a  Tenement-House  District, 

492 

165 

Old  and  Young  Toughs  Playing  Cards  on  the  Docks, 

494 

166 

Police  Headquarters  Building,  ..... 

500 

167 

Main  Entrance  to  Police  Headquarters  Building,  . 

501 

168 

Patrolman's  Shield,  ...... 

502 

169 

Midnight  Rollcall  at  a  Police  Station-House, 

503 

170 

Policemen's  School  of  Instruction,  .... 

506 

171 

FOUND  STRAYED.—  ELEVEN  O'CLOCK  AT  NIGHT  IN 

THE  LOST  CHILDREN'S  ROOM  AT  POLICE  HEAD- 

QUARTERS.—LOST    CHILDREN   WAITING   TO  BE 

CLAIMED,    (ff  ull  page.)        .         .         .           To  face 

509 

172 

Meeting-Place  of  Telegraph  Wires  at  Police  Headquar- 

ters COMMUNICATEE G  WITH  ALL  PARTS  OF  THE  WORLD, 

510 

173 

Policeman'  Billy,  Day  Club,  and  Night  Stick, 

512 

174 

AN  ABANDONED  INFANT.—  A  POLICEMAN  REPORT- 

ING A  LITTLE    FOUNDLING   PICKED  UP  IN  AN 

ALLEY.— A  WINTER  NIGHT  SCENE  AT  A  POLICE 

STATION-HOUSE,    (full  fl>a0C.)      .          .           To  face 

517 

175 

Harbor  Police  Searching  for  River  Thieves, 

518 

176 

Handcuffs,  ........ 

520 

177 

Prisoners'  Cells  ln  a  Police  Station-House, 

521 

178 

The  Lost-Property  Room  at  Police  Headquarters, 

524 

179 

A  Scaling-Ladder,  .... 

530 

180 

SCALING-L ADDER  DllILL,  ...... 

531 

181 

Fireman's  Life-Saving  Hook  and  Belt, 

532 

182 

The  Jumping  or  Life-Saving  Net,  .... 

533 

183 

The  Life-Line  Gun,  ...... 

534 

184 

The  Dummy,  ....  ... 

534 

185 

Life-Saving  Net  Drill,  ...... 

535 

T  TCT    f  \  E1    TT  T  T'QTW  \TTfi\TQ 

1  (\ 

T  .TV  I?  T,T"VL''     TlT?ll  T 

J_>lr  ili    XJliMii    X/XVXXjXj,  ...... 

536 

187 

T  V    T  jr  V    T-TfWPTT"  A  T     ThT»T?    StPIT     A  V  n    TlTmiil  [Til  IToum<'S 

537 

XOO 

539 

189 

Twtt  TTT\rPT\rn— T-Tot  v 

X  in  F.     tj  \J  .Tlx  Xl>  vT     XAv/Xjlli,                          ■                       ■                        •                       •  • 

540 

190 

Ttjtt  IVinHT    At  a  hat 

541 

191 

Off  to  a  Fire,       ...  . 

542 

192 

A  Ladder  Truck, 

543 

193 

Lamp  Post  Surmounting  a  Fire  Signal-Box,  . 

545 

194 

Fire  Signal-Box  on  a  Street  Lamp  Post, 

546 

195 

A  Noted  Corner  Resort  for  Chinese  Gamblers, 

553 

196 

Entrance  to  a  Chinese  Gambling-House  over  an  Opium-Den, 

555 

197 

A  Chinese  Vender  of  Shelled  Beans, 

557 

198 

Waiting  for  Trade.    Chinese  Curbstone  Merchants, 

559 

1 QQ 

In  the  Rear  of  a  Chinese  Restaurant  on  Pell  Street. 

Skins  stuffed  with  meat  hung  up  to  dry, 

^fil 

!3UU 

Tobacco  Smokers  in  a  Joss-House, 

tor 
•  )!>•> 

201 

"Hitting  the  Pipe."    Scene  in  an  opium  den, 

567 

202 

A  Chinaman  and  his  White  Wife  Smoking  Opium,  . 

569 

203 

A  Sly  Opium  Smoker.    (This  photograph  was  made  by 

FLASH- 

light  in  a  Chinese  Opium  Den  on  Pell  Street, 

WHEN 

THE  SMOKER  WAS   SUPPOSED    TO    BE    FAST  ASLEEP. 

SUBSE- 

QUENTLY   THE    PHOTOGRAPH    DISCLOSED    THE  FACT   THAT  HE 

HAD  AT  LEAST  ONE  EYE  OPEN  WHEN  THE  PICTURE  WAS  MADE), 

.")71 

204 

Caught  in  the  Act.    An  Opium  Smoker  surprised,  . 

•)  i  i£i 

205 

A  Tramp's  Interrupted  Nap,  .... 

•tO'J 

206 

Early  Morning  on  the  Docks.    A  gang  of  sleeping  tramps, 

588 

207 

A  Sleeping  Tramp.    A  brick  for  a  pillow,  . 

".Qfl 

•)o\J 

208 

A  Dangerous  Place  for  a  Snooze.    A  tramp  sleeping  on 

THE  STRING-PIECE  OF  A  PIER,  . 

^Q1 

Off  l 

209 

A  Genuinely  Busted  Tramp,  .... 

-.no 

210 

An  Uncomfortable  Bed,  even  for  a  Tramp,  . 

kqq 
•juo 

211 

Taking  it  Easy.    A  tramp's  noon  hour, 

212 

A  Tramp's  Sunday  Morning  Change,  . 

Ov  i 

213 

A  Blind  Man's  Tin  Sign,  ..... 

214 

What  was  on  the  Other  Side,  .... 

■  nr.) 

215 

A  Typical  Pawnshop,  ..... 

OW.) 

216 

The  Old  Candy  Woman,  ..... 

O  1  D 

217 

"Pencils,"  ....... 

fi1 7 

Ox  < 

218 

An  Italian  Notion  Peddler,  .... 

61 S 

219 

A  Fruit  Vender  and  his  "  Shouter,"  . 

u  i  o 

220 

Pretzel  Sellers,  ...... 

620 

221 

"  Cash  Paid  for  Rags,"  ..... 

621 

222 

Making  a  Careful  Selection,  .... 

623 

223 

A  Favorite  Place  for  Street  Children.  "Cold 

SODA 

WATER  2  CENTS,  ICE  CREAM  1  CENT,"  . 

624 

20 


Til  ST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


224  Curbstone  Dry  Goons  Merchants,       ....  625 

225  Introductory  Illustration  to  Part  IIL       .         .  .641 

226  PORTRAIT  OF  CHIEF  INSPECTOR  THOMAS  BYRNES. 

Engraved  on  Steel  from  a  Photograph  taken  expressly 

for  this  work.    .....  To  face  645 

227  Ornamental  Heading  to  Opening  Chapter  op  Part  III,   .  645 

228  A  Ten  Cent  Attic  Lodging-Room  of  the  Better  Class,   .  646 

229  A  Seven  Cent  Lodging-Room  at  Midnight,    .        .        .  649 

230  Night  in  a  Hammock  Lodging-Room  for  Tramps,    .         .  652 

231  IN  DARKEST  NEW  YORK.— MIDNIGHT  IN  A  CHEAP 

UNDERGROUND    LODGING    CELLAR.        "  THREE 

CENTS  A  SPOT."    (full  fl>a0C)      .         .  Tofaee  655 

232  Tools  and  Implements  taken  from  Burglars,         .         .  659 

233  Sectional  Jimmies  and  Skeleton  Keys  taken  from  Burglars,  660 

234  Burglars'  Improved  Safe  Opener,       ....  662 

235  Burglars'  J  ackscrew,      ......  662 

236  Dark  Lanterns  taken  from  Burglars,  .         .  .663 

237  Burglars'  Diamond-Pointed  Crank  Drill,     .         .         .  664 

238  Burglars'  Steel  and  Copper  Sledges  and  Steel  Wedges,  .  665 

239  Burglars'  Sectional  Jimmies  and  Leather  Case,    .         .  666 

240  Dummy  Pistol  and  Whisky  Flask  taken  from  Burglars,  .  667 

241  Burglars'  Powder  Can,  Funnel,  Blower,  and  Fuse,         .  668 

242  Burglars'  Tools  used  to  obtain  Leverage,    .         .  .669 

243  Burglars'  Mallets  and  Handhook,       ....  671 

244  Burglars'  Key  Nippers,    ......  683 

245  False  and  Skeleton  Keys  taken  from  House  Thieves,     .  685 

246  AN    UNWILLING    SUBJECT.  —  PHOTOGRAPHING  A 

PRISONER  FOR  THE  ROGUE'S  GALLERY  AT  PO- 
LICE HEADQUARTERS,    (tfull  {Page.)      .  To  face  690 

247  Stilettoes  and  Knives  taken  from  Criminals,        .         .  694 

248  Sandbags  and  Slungshots  taken  from  Criminals,    .         .  695 

249  Gags  Taken  from  Burglars.    (From  the  Museum  of  Crimp:),  696 

250  Underground  Cells  at  Police  Headquarters,         .  713 

251  Chief  Inspector  Byrnes's  Private  Room  at  Police  Head- 

quarters, ........  735 


PART  I. 


BY 


CHAPTER  I. 

SUNDAY  IN  WATER  STREET  —  HOMES  OF  REVELRY  AND  VICE  — 
SCENES  IN  THE  MISSION  ROOM  — STRANGE  EXPERIENCES. 

Water  Street,  its  Life  and  Surroundings  —  A  Harvest  Field  for  Saloons  and 
Bucket-Shops  —  Dens  of  Abomination  —  Sunday  Sights  and  Scenes  —  The 
Little  Sign,  "Helping  Hand  for  Men"  —  Inside  the  Mission  Building  — 
An  Audience  of  ex-Convicts  and  Criminals  —  A  Tough  Crowd  —  Jerry 
Mc Auley's  Personal  Appearance  —  A  Typical  Ruffian  —  A  Shoeless  and 
Hatless  Brigade  —  Pinching  Out  the  Name  of  Jesus — "God  Takes  what 
the  Devil  Would  Turn  up  His  Nose  at" — "  O,  Dear-r,  Dear-r,  Dearie 
Me!"  —  Comical  Scenes  —  Quaint  Speeches  —  Screams  and  Flying  Stove- 
Lids —  A  Child's  Hymn  —  "Our  Father  in  Heaven,  We  Hallow  Thy 
Name  "  —  Old  Padgett  —  A  Water  Street  Bum  —  "  God  be  Merciful  to  Me 
a  Sinner" — A  Terrible  Night  in  a  Cellar  —  The  Empty  Arm-Chair,  49 


CHAPTER  II. 

CHRISTIAN  WORK  IN  WATER  STREET  — THE  STORY  OF  JERRY 
McAULEY'S  LIFE  TOLD  BY  HIMSELF— A  CAREER  OF  WICK 
EDNESS  AND  CRIME  — THE  MISSION  NOW. 

The  Historic  Five  Points  —  Breeding-Ground  of  Crime  —  Dirty  Homes  and 
Hard  Faces  —  "  The  Kind  God  Don't  Want  and  the  Devil  Won't  Have" 
—  Jerry  McAuley — The  Story  of  His  Life  Told  by  Himself  —  Born  in 
a  New  York  Slum  —  A  Loafer  by  Day  and  a  River  Thief  by  Night  — 
Prizefighter,  Drunkard,  Blackleg,  and  Bully  —  A  Life  of  Wickedness 
and  Crime  —  Fifteen  Years  in  Prison  —  His  Prison  Experiences — Un- 
expected Meeting  with  "Awful"  Gardner  —  Jerry's  First  Prayer — He 
Hears  a  Voice  —  Released  from  Prison  —  His  Return  to  Old  Haunts 
and  Ways  —  Signing  the  Pledge  —  His  Wife  —  Starting  the  Water  Street 
Mission  —  An  Audience  of  Tramps  and  Bums — Becomes  an  Apostle  to 
the  Roughs  —  Jerry's  Death  —  Affecting  Scenes  —  Old  Joe  Chappy — A 
Mother's  Last  Words  —  A  Refuge  for  the  Wicked  and  Depraved,  68 
2  (21) 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEK  III. 

UP  SLAUGHTER  ALLEY,  OR  LIFE  IN  A  TENEMENT-HOUSE  —  A 
TOUR  THROUGH  HOMES  OF  MISERY,  WANT,  AND  WOE 
—  DRINK'S  DOINGS. 

Why  Called  Slaughter  Alley  —  Kicking  a  Missionary  Downstairs  —  Life  and 
Scenes  in  Tenement-Houses  —  Voices  and  Shapes  in  the  Darkness  — My 
Tour  with  the  Doctor  —  Picking  our  Way  through  Slime  and  Filth  — 
"Mammy's  Lookin'  for  You"  —  "Murtherin'  Dinnis"  —  Misery  and 
Squalor  Side  by  Side  —  Stalwart  Tim  — In  the  Presence  of  Death  —  "  I 
Want  to  go,  but  I'm  Willin'  to  Wait "  —  Patsy  —  A  Five-Year-Old 
Washerwoman — Sickening  Odors  —  Human  Beasts  —  Dangerous  Places 

—  ' '  Mike  Gim'me  a  Dollar  for  the  Childer  "  —  The  Charity  of  the  Poor 

—  "Oh,  Wurra,  me  Heart's  Sick  in  me"  — Homes  Swarming  with 
Rats  —  Alive  with  Vermin  and  Saturated  with  Filth  —  The  Omnipresent 
Saloon  —  A  Nursery  of  Criminals  and  Drunkards  —  Conceived  in  Sin 
and  Born  in  Iniquity  — The  Dreadful  Tenement-House  System,    .  89 


CHAPTER  IV. 

NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS— WHO  THEY  ARE,  WHERE  THEY  COME 
FROM,  AND  HOW  THEY  LIVE  — THE  WAIFS  AND  STRAYS 
OF  A  GREAT  CITY. 

The  Newsboys'  Code  of  Morals  —  Curious  Beds  for  Cold  Winters'  Nights  — 
Shivering  Urchins  —  Sleeping  in  a  Burned-out  Safe  —  Creeping  into  Door- 
ways—  The  Street  Arab  and  the  Gutter-Snipe  —  A  Curious  Mixture  of 
Morality  and  Vice  —  His  Religion  —  "Kind  o'  Lucky  to  say  a  Prayer" 

—  Newsboys'  Lodging-Houses  —  First  Night  in  a  Soft  Bed —  Favorite 
Songs  —  Trying  Times  in  "Boys'  Meetings"  —  Opening  the  Savings  Bank 

—  The  ' '  Doodes  "  —  Pork  and  Beans  —  Popular  Nicknames  —  Teaching 
Self-Help  —  Western  Homes  for  New  York's  Waifs — "Wanted,  a  Perfect 
Boy  " —  How  a  Street  Arab  Went  to  Yale  College  —  Newsboy  Orators  — 
A  Loud  Call  for  "  Paddy  " — "  Bummers,  Snoozers,  and  Citizens  "  —  Speci- 
mens of  Wit  and  Humor — "Jack  de  Robber"  —  The  "Kid" — "Ain't  Got 
no  Mammy"  —  A  Life  of  Hardship  —  Giving  the  Boys  a  Chance,  111 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  ONE  HUNDRED  THOUSAND  LITTLE  LABORERS  OF  NEW 
YORK  — CHILD  WORKERS  — THEIR  HOMES  AND  DAILY  LIFE. 

One  Hundred  Thousand  Little  Workers  —  Little  Mothers  —  Early  Lessons 
in  Drinking  —  A  Sup  of  the  "Craytur"  —  A  Six-Year-Old  Nurse  —  A 
"Widdy  Washerwoman " — "See  How  Beautiful  He  Sucks  at  tin- 
Pork" —  Heavy  Burdens  on  Small  Shoulders  —  What  a  Child  of  Eight 
Can  Do  —  Feather  Strippers  —  Paper  Collar  .Makers  —  Tobacco  Strippers 
—  Youth  and  Old  Age  Side  by  Side  —  Cigar-Makers  —  Deadly  Trades  — 
Working  in  Cellars — "Them  Stairs  is  Killin' "  —  What  Jinny  and  Maine 
Did  —  Pinched  with  Hunger — "She  Could  Sew  on  Buttons  when  She 
Wasn't  Much  Over  Four"  — A  Tiny  Worker  of  Five  —  "  Stitch.  Stitch 
Stitch,  in  Poverty,  Hunger,  and  Dirt"  —  Scenes  in  Working  Children's 
Homes  —  "She's  Sewred  on  Millions  of  Buttons,  that  Child  Has"  —  "A 
Hot  Place  Wraitin'  for  Him"  —  Preternaturally  Aged  Faces,  .    .  139 


CONTENTS. 


23 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CHILD-LIFE  IN  THE  SLUMS  —  HOMELESS  STREET  BOYS,  GUTTER- 
SNIPES AND  DOCK  RATS  — THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  A  DAY- 
BREAK BOY. 

Gutter-Snipes  —  Imps  of  Darkness  —  Snoopers  —  Rags  and  Tatters  — Life  in 
the  Gutter  — Old  Sol  —  Running  a  Grocery  under  Difficulties  —  Youthful 
Criminals  — Newsboys  and  Bootblacks— Candidates  for  Crime— "He's 
Smart,  He  Is"  — "It's  Business  Folks  as  Cheats "  —  Dock  Rats  —  Unre- 
claimed Children  —  Thieves'  Lodging-Houses  — Poverty  Lane  — Hell's 
Kitchen  —  Dangers  of  a  Street  Girl's  Life  —  Old  Margaret  —  The  Reforma- 
tion of  Wildfire  — The  Queen  of  Cherry  Street  — Sleeping  on  the- Docks  — 
Too  Much  Lickin'  and  More  in  Prospect  — A  Street  Arab's  Summer  Resi- 
dence —  A  Walking  Rag-Bundle  —  Getting  Larruped  —  A  Daybreak  Boy 
—  Jack's  Story  of  his  Life  —  Buckshot  Taylor  —  A  Thieves'  Run-way  — 
Escaping  over  Roofs  —  A  Police  Raid  —  Head-first  off  the  Roof  —  Death  of 
Jack  — His  Dying  Request  — Fifteen  Thousand  Homeless  Children,  149 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  OPEN  DOORS  OF  MERCY  — THE  SOCIETY  FOR  THE  PRE- 
VENTION OF  CRUELTY  TO  CHILDREN  — BRUTES  IN  HUMAN 
FORM  — THE  DEMON  OF  DRINK  — RESCUE  WORK. 

"That  is  Mary  Ellen"  — The  First  Child  Rescued  — A  Dying  Woman's  Re- 
quest—What the  Court  Saw  when  the  Blanket  was  Unrolled— A  Dramatic 
Scene  —  Little  Acrobats  —  Helpless  Little  Sufferers  —  Specious  Pleas  of 
Criminal  Lawyers  — Inhuman  Parents  — A  Lovely  Face  Hidden  under 
Filth  and  Clotted  Blood  —  Extreme  Cruelty  — A  Fit  Subject  for  the  Lash 

—  Restored  to  Home  at  Last  —  A  Sad  Case — "Before  and  After"  —  Two 
Boy  Tramps  —  Driven  from  Home  —  Cases  of  Special  Brutality  —  Shiver- 
ing from  Fright — Wild-Eyed  Children  —  A  Fresh  Arrival  at  the  Society's 
Rooms — "Everything  Must  be  Burned" — "He  is  Alive"  —  The  First 
Sleep  in  a  Bed  —  A  Life  of  Pain  —  A  Drunken  Mother  of  Seven  Children 

—  Unspeakable  Horrors  —  A  Lily  from  a  Dung-Heap  —  The  Sale  of 
Liquor  to  Children  —  Children  as  Fierce  as  Starved  Dogs  —  Terrible 
Tortures,  170 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MISSION  WORK  IN  TOUGH  PLACES  — SEEKING  TO  SAVE  — A 
LEAF  FROM  THE  EXPERIENCE  OF  AN  ALL-NIGHT  MISSION- 
ARY—RESCUE WORK  IN  THE  SLUMS. 

The  Cremorne  Mission  —  A  Piteous  Cry  for  Help  —  "Lock  me  up"  —  Mrs. 
McAuley's  Prayer  —  A  Convert  from  the  Lowest  Depths  —  Ragged  Kitty, 
the  News  Girl  —  Marks  of  a  Mother's  Cruelty  —  "  Let  me  out "  —  "I  Want 
me  Pat "  —  Distressing  Scenes  —  ' '  Mashing  "  the  Baby  —  Begging  for 
Shelter  and  Warmth  —  An  All-Night  Missionary's  Story  —  A  Baxter  Street 
Audience  —  "Roll,  Jordan,  Roll  !"  —  Story  of  Welsh  Jennie  —  A  Mother's 
Love — "She  is  Dead"  —  Seeking  to  Save  —  A  Midnight  Tour  through 
Dens  of  Vice  and  Misery  —  Horrible  Sights  —  An  Emblem  of  Purity  in  the 
Midst  of  Vice — "It's  no  Use!  It's  no  Use!" — "Don't  you  Know  me  Mother? 
I  am  your  Jennie "  —  Affecting  Meeting  of  a  Mother  and  her  Erring 
Daughter  —  Old  Michael's  Story  —  Fifty-three  Years  in  Prisons,  .  185 


24 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  SLUMS  BY  NIGHT  — THE  UNDER-WORLD  OF  NEW  YORK  — 
LIFE  AND  SCENKS  IN  DENS  OF  INFAMY  AND  CRIME  — NIGHT 
REFUGES  FOR  WOMEN  —  FAST  LIFE  —  CHRISTIAN  WORK 
AMONG  OUTCASTS. 

A  Nocturnal  Population  — Dens  of  Infamy —  Gilded  Palaces  of  Sin  — The 
Open  Door  to  Ruin  —  Worsl  Phases  of  Night  Life  — Barred  Doors  and 
Sliding  Panels  — Mysterious  Disappearances  —  The  Bowery  by  Night  — 
Free-and-Easys  and  Dime  Museums  — A  Region  of  the  Deepest  Poverty 
and  Vice  —  Vice  the  First  Product,  Death  the  Second  —  Nests  of  Crime  — 
The  Sleeping  Places  of  New  York's  Outcasts  —  Lowering  Brows  and  Evil 
Eyes  —  The  Foxes,  AVolves,  and  Owls  of  Humanity  —  Thieves  and  Nook- 
and-Corner  Men  — Women  with  Bent  Heads  and  Despairing  Eyes  — One 
More  Victim  —  Night  Tramps  — A  Class  that  Never  Goes  to  Bed  — The 
Beautiful  Side  of  Womanhood  —  Girls'  Lodging-Houses  —  Homes  for  the 
Homeless — Gratitude  of  Saved  Women— The  Work  of  the  Night 
Refuges,  208 


CHAPTER  X. 

NIGHT  MISSION  WORK  — NEW  YORK  STREETS  AFTER  DARK  — 
RESCUE  WORK  AMONG  THE  FALLEN  AND  DEPRAVED  — 
SEARCHING  FOR  THE  LOST  — AN  ALL-NIGHT  MISSIONARY'S 
EXPERIENCE. 

The  "Bloody  Sixth  Ward"  —  Hoodlums  —  The  Florence  Night  Mission  — 
Where  the  Inmates  Come  from  —  A  Refuge  for  Fallen  Women  — 
Searching  for  Lost  Daughters  —  Low  Concert  Halls  —  Country  Boys 
Who  "Come  in  Just  to  See"  —  A  Brand  Plucked  from  the  Burning  — 
Old  Rosa's  Den  of  Villainy  —  In  the  Midst  of  Vice  and  Degradation  — 
Rescue  Work  Among  the  Fallen  —  Accordeon  Mary  —  "Sing!  Sing  !" 

—  Gospel  Service  in  a  Stale-Beer  Dive  —  The  Fruits  of  One  False  Step 

—  Scenes  in  Low  Dance-Halls  and  Vile  Resorts  —  Painted  Wrecks  —  An 
All-Night  Missionary's  Experience  —  Saving  a  Despised  Magdalen  —  A 
Perilous  Moment  —  The  Story  of  Nellie  Conroy  —  Rescued  from  the 
Lowest  Depths  of  Sin — Nine  Years  in  the  Slums  —  The  Christian  End 
of  a  Misspent  Life  —  Nearing  the  River  —  Nellie's  Death  —  Who  Was 
E  M  ?  — Twenty-four  Years  a  Tramp  — Last  Words,  .    .  224 


CHAPTER  XI. 

GOSPEL  WORK  IN  THE  SLUMS  — AN  ALL-NIGHT  MISSIONARY'S 
LIFE— A  MIDNIGHT  CURBSTONE  MEETING  — UP  SHINBONE 
ALLEY. 

A  Midnight  Curbstone  Meeting  —  A  Confidence  Game  that  Failed  to  Work 

—  An  Astonished  Thief — "You  Ought  to  be  a  Christian"  —  "Will 
Christ  Pay  my  Rent?"  — A  Midnight  Sermon  —  One  of  the  Devil's 
Family  —  Sowing  Seed  on  Stony  Ground — "If  I'd  only  Stuck  to  Sun- 
day School"  — Dark  and  Dirty  Pell  Street  —  Five-Cent  Lodging-Houses 

—  Shinbone  Alley  At  Three  o'clock  in  the  Morning  —  A  Typical  Street 
Boy — One  of  the  Gang — "  Snoozin' "  on  a  Beer  Keg  —  A  Suspicious 
Looking  Wagon  —  A  Whispered  Consultation  —  "Corkey"  from  "Up 
de  River"  — Fallen  among  Thieves  — A  Deep  Laid  Plot —  A  Thirsty 
Crowd  of  Desperate  Roughs  —  The  Story  of  the  Cross  and  the  Dying 
Thief —  A  Speechless  Audience  —  "  De  Fust  to  Preach  Religion  roun'  dese 
Corners  "  —  "  Wal,  I'm  Blowed  "  —  Caught  by  the  Great  Detective,  247 


THE  PAPER. 


rpHE  paper  on  which  this  book  is  printed  was  made  specially  to  order  for  this 
I  particular  book,  and  is  guaranteed  by  the  manufacturers  to  be  made  strictly  of 
"all  rags,"  no  wood  pulp,  paper  shavings,  or  clay  being  used  in  it.  |dp  It  is  an 
A  No:  1  paper,  the  beat  that  can  be  made.  Notice  how  very  firm  and  how  tine  and 
smooth  it  is.  So,  too,  the  paper  used  for  the  full-page  engravings  is  expensive 

coated  paper  made  specially  to  order.  Compare  it  with  that  used  in  any  other  book. 
It  is  the  same  kind,  both  in  quality  and  price,  as  that  occasionally  used  for  the  line 
frontispiece  engravings  in  Harper's,  the  Century,  and  Scribner's  Magazines,  and  is 
much  header  than  is  used  by  any  of  these  periodicals. 


CONTENTS. 


25 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SHOP-GIRLS  AND  WORKING  WOMEN  — THE  GREAT  ARMY  OF 
NEW  YORK  POOR  — LIFE  UNDER  THE  GREAT  BRIDGE  — THE 
BITTER  CRY  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Shop-Girls  and  their  Lives —Workers  in  all  Trades — Aching  Heads  and  Tired 
Feet  —  The  Comforts  of  Old  Shoes  —  Women  in  Rags  who  Sew  Silk  and 
Velvet  —  Stories  of  Want  and  Misery  —  Life  among  the  Very  Poor  — 
WOrking  Fourteen  Hours  for  Thirty  Cents  —  The  Luxury  of  Sixty  Cents 
a  Day  —  Skeletons  at  Work  —  Brutal  Sweaters  —  Grinding  the  Faces  of 
the  Poor  — Human  Ghouls  Who  Drink  Blood  and  Eat  Flesh  —  "  Poor 
Folks  Can't  Have  Much  Rostin'  nor  Fine  Doin's "  —  How  Norah  Cooked 
the  Steak — "Beans!"  —  Tea  Like  Lye  —  People  who  have  "Known  Bet- 
ter Days  "  —  Life  Under  the  Great  Bridge  —  Turning  Night  into  Day  — 
Cries  of  Despair  — Want  and  Woe  —  Hope  Never  Dies  —  Living  on  Porridge 
at  Six  Cents  a  Day  —  Fearful  Scenes  —  Starving  Body  and  Soul — "Never 
Better,  Always  Worse  and  Worse"  —  The  Sorrow  of  the  Poor,  .  255 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

HOSPITAL  LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK  —  A  TOUR  THROUGH  THE 
WARDS  OF  OLD  BELLEVUE  —  AFFECTING  SCENES  — THE 
MORGUE  AND  ITS  SILENT  OCCUPANTS. 

Wealth  and  Misery  Side  by  Side —Training  Schools  for  Nurses— A  "Hurry" 
Call  — The  Ambulance  Service  —  Prejudice  against  Hospitals  — A  Place 
where  the  Doctors  Cut  up  Folks  Alive  — Taken  to  the  Dead-House  — 
"  Soon  they  will  be  Cuttin'  him  up"  —  Etherizing  a  Patient  —  A  Painless 
and  Bloodless  Operation  —  A  Patient  Little  Sufferer  —  Ministering  Angels 
—  Cutting  off  a  Leg  in  Fifteen  Seconds  —  A  Swift  Amputation  —  Miracu- 
lous Skill  — Thanking  the  Doctor  for  Hastening  the  End— "Those  Last 
Precious,  Painless  Hours"— A  Child's  Idea  of  Heaven— "Who  Will  Mind 
the  Baby"  —  Flowers  in  Heaven  —  The  Morgue  —  Its  Silent  Occupants — 
The  Prisoners'  Cage  — Searching  for  her  Son  — An  Affecting  Meeting  — 
"Charlie,  Mother  is  Here"— "Too  Late,  Too  Late"  — A  Pathetic 
Scene,  279 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

FLOWER  MISSIONS  AND  THE  FRESH  AIR  FUND  — THE  DISTRI- 
BUTION OF  FLOWERS  AMONG  THE  SICK  AND  POOR  — 
ANECDOTES  AND  INCIDENTS. 

Along  the  River  Front— A  Dangerous  Locality  —  First  Lessons  in  Thiev- 
ing—Headquarters  of  River  Pirates  — The  Influence  of  Flowers  in  a 
Region  of  Vice  and  Crime  —  Fighting  Bad  Smells  with  Good  Ones  — 
A  Magic  Touch  — Bud  and  Bloom  in  the  Windows  of  the  Poor  — 
Flowers  and  Plants  in  Tumble-Down  Houses  and  Tenement  Rookeries 
—  Distributing  Flowers  Among  the  Sick  — Flowers  in  Hospitals  —  The 
Story  of  a  Bunch  of  Buttercups— Children  Carrying  Flowers  to  Bed 
with  Them— "The  Pansy  Man"  — Taking  Flowers  out  for  a  Walk  — 
Effect  of  Flowers  on  a  Sick  Child  —  The  Story  of  "Long  Sal"  and  Ber 
Geranium  — A  Female  Terror  — Going  out  to  "  Catch  Raspberries  "  - 
Slum  Children's  First  Week  in  the  Country  —  A  Suspicious  Mother 
Rich  Results  from  Two  Dollars  a  Week— "Ain't  They  God's?"  305 


2G 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEK  XV. 

A  DAY  IN  A  FREE  DISPENSARY  —  RELIEVING  THE  SUFFERING 
POOR— MISSIONARY  NURSES  AND  THEIR  WORK  -  A  TOUCH- 
ING STORY. 

From  Hod-Carrying  to  Alderman  —  Leavening  the  Whole  Lump  — A  Great 
Chanty  — Filthy  but  Thrifty  — A  Day  at  the  Eastern  Dispensary  — 
Diseases  Springing  from  Want  and  Privation  —  A  Serious  Crowd  — Sift- 
ing out  Impostors  —  The  Children's  Doctor  —  Forlorn  Faces  — A  Doomed 
Family  —  A  Scene  on  the  Stairs  — Young  Roughs  and  Women  with 
Blackened  Eyes  —  A  Labor  of  Love  — Dread  of  Hospitals—  "  They  Cut 
You  Open  Before  the  Breath  is  out  of  Your  Body"  — The  Black  Bot- 
tle—Sewing up  a  Body  and  Making  a  Great  Pucker  in  the  Seam  —  A 
Missionary  Nurse  — A  Tale  of  Destitution,  Sickness,  and  Death  — A 
Pathetic  Appeal  —  A  Starving  Family  — Just  in  Time  —  Heartbroken —A 
Fight  with  Death  — "Work  is  all  I  Want"—  A  Merciful  Release,  318 


CHAPTEK  XYI. 

LIFE  BEHIND  THE  BARS  — A  VISIT  TO  TPIE  TOMBS  —  SCENES 
WITHIN  PRISON  WALLS -RAYS  OF  LIGHT  ON  A  DARK 
PICTURE. 

The  Tombs  —  A  Gloomy  Prison  —  The  Bridge  of  Sighs  —  Murderers'  Rowt  — 
The  Procession  to  the  Gallows  —  "  Flop  Flop,  Flop  Flop  "  — "  Many 
Would  Give  a  V  to  see  it  "—Bummers'  Hall  —  Aristocratic  Prisoners  — 
Prison  Routine  —  Remarkable  Escapes  of  Prisoners  —  The  Dreary  Station- 
House  Cell  — A  Bitter  Cry  —  The  Value  of  "  Inflooence  "—  Shyster  Law- 
yers—Poverty-Stricken Men,  Women,  and  Children  —  A  Wife's  Pitiful 
Plea  —  Tales  of  Destitution  and  Misery  —  Sad  Cases — A  Noble  Woman 
—  An  LTnheeded  Warning  —  Bribery,  Corruption,  and  Extortion  —  A  Day 
in  the  Police  Courts  —  How  Justice  is  Administered  —  A  Judge's  Strange 
and  Thrilling  Story  — "  Give  me  my  Pound  of  Flesh,"    ....  335 


CHAPTEK  XVII. 

LURKING  PLACES  OF  SIN  — FACE  TO  FACE  WITH  CRIME  — 
CELLAR  HAUNTS  AND  UNDERGROUND  RESORTS  OF  CRIMI- 
NALS—THE STORY  OF  JIM,  AN  EX-CONVICT. 

The  Slums  of  New  York  —  Cellar  Harbors  for  Criminals  —  Face  to  Face  with 
Crime  —  Old  Michael  Dunn  —  A  Tour  through  Criminal  Haunts  —  Jim 
Tells  the  Story  of  his  Life  —  Sleeping  in  Packing  Boxes,  Boilers,  and 
Water  Pipes  —  My  Visit  to  one  of  his  Hiding  Places  —  A  Thrilling  Experi- 
ence in  a  Damp  and  Mouldy  Cellar  —  Locked  in — A  Mad  Fight  for  Life — 
Floating  on  a  Plank  —  Underground  Resorts  of  Pickpockets  and  Thieves 
—  How  River  Thieves  Operate  — A  Midnight  Expedition  —  An  Evil  Region 
— Young  Ruffians  and  Sneak  Thieves — Patroling  the  Streets  at  Night — The 
Policeman's  Story  —  Open  Vice  of  Every  Form  —  Lurking  Places  of  Crim- 
inals—  Sneak  Thieves  —  Dangerous  Localities —  "  Hell's  Kitchen,"  .  352 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

LIFE  ON  BLACKWELL'S  ISLAND  — THE  DREGS  OF  A  GREAT 
CITY  —  WHERE  CRIMINALS,  PAUPERS,  AND  LUNATICS  ARE 
CARED  FOR  — A  CONVICT'S  DAILY  LIFE  —  "DRINK'S  OUR 
CURSE." 

The  "Tub  of  Misery" — A  Miserable  Sight  —  Gutter-Soaked  Rags  and  Mat- 
ted Hair  —  Rounders  —  Terrible  Scenes  —  Insanity  in  Handcuffs  —  Results 
of  Trying  to  "See  Life"  in  New  York  —  Aristocrats  in  Crime  —  Appeals 
for  Mercy  —  Sounds  that  Make  the  Blood  Run  Cold  —  White  Heads 
Brought  Low  —  A  Pandemonium  —  Vermin-Infested  Clothes  —  Insane 
from  the  "Horrors" — Suicides — "Famine  Meal" — Odd  Delusions  and 
Beliefs  of  the  Insane  —  The  Queen  of  Heaven  —  The  Mother  of  Forty-rive 
Children  —  Snakes  in  his  Stomach — "Oh,  Lord!  They're  Squirming 
Again" — A  Contented  Tinker  —  Waiting  for  the  River  to  Dry  up — "For 
the  Love  of  God,  Bring  me  a  Coffin" — A  Ghoul  in  the  Dead-House  —  An 
Irish  Philosopher  — The  Penitentiary  —  Daily  Life  of  Prisoners  —  A  Hard 
Fate  —  Convict  Labor  —  Secret  Communications  between  Prisoners,  362 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

HEAVENLY  CHARITIES  —  SISTER  IRENE'S  MYSTERIOUS  BASKET 
—  HOMES  FOR  FOUNDLINGS  AND  LITTLE  WAIFS. 

Sister  Irene  —  A  Modern  Good  Samaritan  —  A  Mysterious  Little  Basket  —  Its 
First  Appearance  —  "  What  Can  it  be  for  ?  "  —  Its  First  Tiny  Occupant  — 
Crouching  in  the  Shadow  —  An  Agonizing  Parting  —  Babies  Abandoned 
on  the  Street  —  Broken-Hearted  Mothers  — A  "  Rent-Baby  "  — A  "  Run- 
Around"— How  Sister  Irene's'  Basket  Grew  into  a  Six-Story  Building  — 
Fatherless  Children  —  Babies  of  all  Kinds  —  How  the  Record  of  each  Baby 
is  Kept  — Curious  Requests  for  Children  for  Adoption  —  "  Wanted,  a  Nice 
Little  Red-Headed  Boy  "  —  An  Inquiry  for  a  Girl  with  a  "  Prettv  Nose  "— 
"  Going  to  Meet  Papa  and  Mamma  "  —  The  Sunny  Side  of  the  Work  —  The 
Darker  Side  of  the  Picture  — Pain  and  Suffering  — Worn  Little  Faces  — 
The  Babies'  Hospital  —  Free  Cribs  for  Little  Sufferers,  381 


CHAPTER  XX. 

ITALIAN  LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK  —  SCENES  IN  THE  GREAT  BEND 
IN  MULBERRY  STREET  —  HOMES  OF  FILTH  AND  SQUALOR. 

The  Home  of  the  Organ-Grinder  and  his  Monkey  —  Italian  Child  Slavery  — 
Begging,  or  Honest  Occupation  — Grinding  Poverty  — An  Itali  mi's  First 
View  of  New  York  — Flashing  Eyes  and  Gay-Colored  Raiment  —  Fatalists 

—  The  Great  Bend  in  Mulberry  Street— Mouldy  Bread  and  Skinny  Poultry 

—  Tainted  Meat  and  Ancient  Fish —Unbearable  Odors  — Rotten  Vegeta- 
bles and  Rancid  Butter  —  Strong  Flavors  in  Cooking  —  The  Beehive  — 
Bones,  Garbage,  and  Rags  —  Squalid  and  Filthy  Homes  — Swarminu  in 
Great  Tenement  Houses  —  Maccaroni  and  Oil  —  The  Monkey -Trainer  — 
Rag-Pickers  in  Cellars  and  Basements  —  How  the  Italians  Live  —  Smashed 
Eggs  by  the  Spoonful  —  "  Little  Italy,"  398 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

STTANTYToW  N  AND  ITS  DWELLERS  —  LIFE  AMONG  NEW  YORK 
SQUATTERS  — CHARACTERISTIC  SCENES  AND  INCIDENTS. 

The  Land  of  Hans  and  I 'at  —  A  Fertile  Field  lor  Ail  isis  —  The  March  of  Im- 
provement—German Patience  and  Industry  —  Pat's  Fondness  lor  W  hite- 
wash—An  Accommodating  Style  of  Architecture  —  Growing  up  in  Shan 
tytown  — Nora  says  "  Yes "  —  Sudden  Evictions  — The  Possibilities  of  Old 
Junk  — A  Persistent  Landholder;  His  Home  Blasted  from  under  him  — 
Making  the  Most  of  a  Little  — The  Living  among  the  Dead  —  The  Animals 
of  Shantytown  —  Dogs  and  Goats  as  Breadwinners— The  Pound  — The 
Aristocracy  of  the  Tenement-Houses  —  An  Irish  Landholder  — The  Stuff 
Aldermen  are  Made  of  —  Rapid  Rises  from  Small  Beginnings  —  Cleaning 
out  the  Shanties  —  The  Shadow  which  Overhangs  Shantytown,    .  411 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

UNDERGROUND  LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK  — CELLAR  AND  SHED 
LODGINGS  —  DENS  OF  THE  VICIOUS  AND  DEPRAVED  — 
STARTLING  SCENES. 

Life  in  Basements  and  Cellars  —  Underground  Lodging  Places  —  Where 
Outcasts  and  Vagrants  Congregate  —  The  Worst  Forms  of  Crime,  Im- 
morality, and  Drunkenness — Sleeping  Over  Tide  Mud  —  Afloat  in  Then- 
Beds —  A  Visit  to  Casey's  Den  —  A  Rope  for  a  Pillow  —  Packed  Like 
I  In  rings  —  Pestilential  Places  —  A  Blear-Eyed  Crowd  —  "  Full  "  —  Five 
in  a  Bed  —  "  Thim's  Illigant  Beds"  —  Sickening  Sights  —  Cellar  Scenes 

—  Rum  Three  Cents  a  Glass — "It's  the  Vermin  that's  the  AYorst  " — 
Standing  up  all  Night  —  Floors  of  Rotten  Boards  —  Dreadful  Surround- 
ings—  Things  that  Creep  and  Bite  —  A  "Shake-Down"  —  The  Home 
of  Criminals  and  Beggars — "Three  Cents  a  Spot"  —  A  Five-Cent  Bed 

—  "In  God  we  Trust;  All  Else  is  Cash"  —  The  Saloon  and  the  Lodg- 
ing-House  on  Friendly  Terms  —  An  Army  of  Impecunious  People,  420 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

JACK  ASHORE  — AN  EASYr  PREYT  FOR  LAND-SHARKS  AND 
SHARPERS  — LIFE  ON  THE  "ST.  MARY^'S "  AND  AT  THE 
SAILORS'  SNUG  HARBOR. 

The  Universal  Love  for  the  Sea  —  Sailor  Life  —  A  Tale  of  Shipwreck 
and  Starvation  —  An  Unconscious  Hero  —  An  Old  Sailor's  Story — "I 
Smelled  the  Sea  an'  Heard  it"  —  A  Voice  from  the  Waves — "Jack, 
Jack,  You  Ain't  in  your  Right  Place"  —  Jack's  Curious  Character  — 
His  Credulity  and  Simplicity  —  The  Prey  of  Land-Sharks  and  Sharpers 
—  Sailors'  Temptations  —  Dens  of  Robbery  and  Infamy  —  Life  in  Sail- 
ors' Boarding-Houses  —  The  Seamen's  Exchange  —  A  Boy's  Life  on  the 
School  Ship  "St.  Mary's"  —  Bethels  and  Seamen's  Homes — Life  at  the 
Sailors'  Snug  Harbor  —  A  Sailor-Clergyman  —  Fried  Fish  for  Eight 
Hundred  —  The  Cripples'  Room  —  "A  Case  of  Pure  Cussedness  "  — 
Admiral  Farragut  and  Old  Jim— Bane  and  Antidote  Side  by  Side — End- 
ing their  Days  in  Peace     .lack  Awaiting  the  Ebbing  of  the  Tide,  434 


THE  TYPE  AND  PLATES. 


The  sample  pages  in  this  canvassing-book  are  taken  at  random  from  the  complete 
book.  The  complete  work  will  contain  740  pages  like  these,  illustrated  with 
251  superb  illustrations,  of  which  only  a  very  few  are  shown  here.  Notice  the 
print!  This  type  was  made  specially  for  this  book  by  Farmer, .Little  &  Co.,  the 
great  type  founders  in  New  York.  It  is  clear  and  beautiful,  good  for  old  eyes  and 
young  ones,  too. 

The  plates  and  engravings  cost  nearly  $30,000.  The  publishers  might  have  got 
them  up  for  one  thousand  if  they  had  wished  to  produce  an  inferior  book,  or  had 
used  old  or  second-hand  cuts.  The  250  splendid  illustrations  in  this  work  are  cut  inly 
original.  They  were  made  from  special  photographs,  taken  expressly  for  this  work 
front  real  life.  These  photographs  can  be  seen  at  any  time  at  the  publisher's  office 
by  any  interested  party. 


CHAPTER  XXIY. 

STREET  LIFE  —  THE  BOWERY  BY  DxYY  AND  BY  NIGHT  — LIFE 
IN  BAXTER  AND  CHATHAM  STREETS. 

A  Street  Where  Silence  Never  Reigns  —  Where  Poverty  and  Millions 
Touch  Elbows — "Sparrow-Chasers" — Fifth  Avenue  —  The  Home  of 
Wealth  and  Fashion  —  Life  on  the  Bowery  —  Pit  and  Peanuts  — 
Pelted  with  Rotten  Eggs  —  Concert  Halls  —  Police  Raids  —  Dime  Muse- 
ums and  their  Freaks  —  Fraud  and  Impudence  —  Outcasts  of  the  Bowery 

—  Beer  Gardens — Slums  of  the  Bowery  —  Night  Scenes  on  the  Streets 

—  Pickpockets  and  Crooks  —  Ragpickers  and  their  Foul  Trade — "The 
Black  and  Tan"  —  A  Dangerous  Place — "  Makin'  a  Fortin' " —  "Razors 
in  the  Air"— "Keep  yer  Jints  Well  lied"  —  The  Old  Clo'  Shops  of 
Chatham  Street  —  Blarney  and  Cheating,  459 


CHAPTER  XXY. 

TRAINING-SCHOOLS  OF  CRIME  — DRINK,  THE  ROOT  OF  EVIL 
—  GREAT  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  LIQUOR  TRAFFIC  FOR 
(  RIME  — PLAIN  FACTS  AND  STARTLING  STATEMENTS. 

The  Ancestry  of  Crime  —  Effects  of  Heredity  —  Intemperance  the  Root 
of  Evil  —  Pest-Holes  of  New  York  —  Conceived  in  Sin  and  Born  in 
Iniquity  —  Where  Criminals  are  Born  and  How  They  are  Bred  —  Parents, 
Children,  and  Geese  Herded  in  a  Filthy  Cellar — Necessity  the  Mother 
of  Crime  —  Driven  to  Stealing — The  Petty  Thieving  of  Boys  and  Girls 
—  How  the  Stove  is  Kept  Going  —  Problems  for  Social  'Reformers  — 
Dens  of  Thieves  and  Their  Means  of  Escape  — Gangs  and  Their 
Occupations  —  Pawn-Shops  and  "Fences" — Eight  Thousand  Saloons 
to  Four  Hundred  Churches  —  Liquor-Dealers  as  Criminals  —  A  Detec- 
tive's Experience  on  Mott  Street  — A  Mother's  Plea  —  A  Cautious 
Countryman  —  An  Unsafe  Place  at  Night— A  Child's  First  Lessons  in 
Crime  —  Cheap  Lodging-IIouses  —  Foul  Beds  and  Noisy  Nights,  .  470 

(29) 


30 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  POLICE  DEPARTMENT  OF  NEW  YORK  — THE  DETECTIVE 
FORCE  AND  ITS  WORK— SHADOWS  AND  SHADOWING  — 
SLEUTH-HOUNDS  OF  THE  LAW. 

A  Building  thai  is  Never  Closed  —  Police-Station  Lodgings  — Cutting  his 
Buttons  off  —  A  Dramatic  Scene  —  Teaching  the  Tenderf eet  —  The  Duties 
of  a  Policeman  —  Inquiries  for  Missing  Friends  —  Mysterious  Cases- 
Clubbing  —  Night-Clubs  and  Billies  —  Scattering  a  Mob  —  Calling  for  As- 
sistance—Watching Strangers  —  "Tom  and  Jerry"  in  a  Soup  Plate  — 
The  Harbor  Police  — The  Great  Detective  Force  and  its  Head  — Chief 
Inspector  Thomas  Byrnes  —  Sketch  of  his  Career  —  A  Proud  Record  —His 
Knowledge  of  Crooks  and  their  Ways  —  Keeping  Track  of  Thieves  and 
Criminals  — Establishing  a  "Dead  Line  "  in  Wall  Street  — Human  De- 
pravity and  Human  Impudence  —  The  Rogues'  Gallery  —  Shadows  and 
Shadowing  —  Unraveling  Plots  —  Skillful  Detective  Work  —  Extorting 
the  Truth  —  The  Museum  of  Crime  —  What  May  Be  Seen  There  —  Disap- 
pearance of  Old  Thieves  —  Rising  Young  Criminals,  498 


CHAPTEE  XXVII. 

FIRE!   FIRE!  — THE  LIFE  OF  A  NEW  YORK  FIREMAN  — THE 
SCHOOL  OF  INSTRUCTION  AND  THE  LIFE-SAVING  CORPS. 

The  Volunteer  Fire  Department  of  ye  Olden  Time  —  How  Barnum's  Show 
Was  Interrupted  —  A  Comical  Incident  —  Indians  and  Red-Coats  at  a  Fire 
—  The  Bowery  B'hoys  —  Soap-Locks  —  The  School  of  Instruction  and  the 
Life-Saving  Corps  —  Daily  Drill  in  the  Use  of  Life-Saving  Appliances  — 
Wonderful  Feats  on  the  Scaling-Ladder  —  The  Jumping-Net —  Thrilling 
Scenes  and  Incidents  —  The  Life-Line  Gun  —  Fire-Department  Horses  — 
Their  Training  —  A  Hospital  for  Sick  and  Injured  Horses  —  A  Night  Visit 
to  an  Engine-House  —  Keeping  up  Steam  —  Automatic  Apparatus  —  How 
Firemen  Sleep  —  Sliding  Down  the  Pole  —  The  Alarm  —  Fire  !  Fire  !  — 
A  Quick  Turn-Out  —  Intelligent  Horses  —  The  Fire- Alarm  System  — 
Answering  an  Alarm  in  Seven  Seconds  —  A  Thrilling  Sight —  Signal- 
Boxes  and  How  they  are  Used  —  The  Perils  of  a  Fireman's  Life,  526 


CHAPTEE  XXVIII. 

THE  CHINESE  QUARTER  OF  NEW  YORK  —  BEHIND  THE  SCENES 
IN  CHINATOWN—  "JOHN "  AND  HIS  CURIOUS  WAYS  — A 
NIGHT  VISIT  TO  AN  OPIUM  JOINT. 

The  Chinese  Junk  "  Key- Yin g  "  —  The  Heart  of  the  Chinese  Community  in 
New  York  —  A  Race  of  Gamblers  —  A  Trip  through  Chinatown  with 
a  Detective  —  A  Raid  on  a  Gambling-House  —  Spotting  the  Players  —  The 
Opium  Habit  —  A  Chinese  Drugstore  —  Marvelous  Remedies  —  A  Won- 
derful Bill  of  Fare  — A  Visit  to  a  Joss-House  —  An  Opium  Smoker's 
"  Lay-Out  "  —  The  Value  of  an  Opium  Pipe  —A  Night  Visit  to  an  Opium- 
Joint  —  Carefully-Guarded  Doors  — How  Admission  is  Gained— -The 
Peep-Hole  —  Cunning  Celestials  —  Scenes  in  the  Smoking-Room  — Victims 
of  the  Opium  Habit  —  First  Experiences  at  Hitting  the  Pipe  —  A  Terrible 
Longing  — A  Woman's  Experience —White  Opium  Fiends  —  Sickening 
Scenes —Aristocratic  Smokers  —  Cost  of  Opium  —  Spread  of  the  Opium 
Habit  —  Solitary  Indulgence  in  the  Vice  —  Certain  Death  the  Result,  549 


CONTENTS. 


31 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  SPIDER  AND  THE  FLY  — MOCK  AUCTIONS,  BOGUS  HORSE 
SALES  AND  OTHER  TRAPS  FOR  THE  UNWARY  —  PERSONAL 
EXPERIENCES. 

Ingenious  Lawyers  —  Swindling  Advertisements  —  Mock  Auctions  —  My  Own 
Experience  —  Mr.  Barmore's  Purchases  —  Socks  "By  the  Dozen"  —  A 
Stool-Pigeon  —  The  Merchant  from  Trenton  —  I  am  Trapped  —  A  Sudden 
Cessation  of  Business  —  Putting  it  down  to  Experience  —  Perennial  Buyers 

—  What  ' '  By  the  Dozen  "  Means  —  A  Mean  Swindle  —  Easily  Taken  in  — 
Base  Counterfeits  —  Bogus  Horse-Dealers  —  The  Gentleman  "  Just  Going 
to  Europe"  —  A  "Private  Stable"  —  A  Considerate  Horse-Owner  —  Busi- 
ness-Like Methods  —  A  Breathless  Stranger  Arrives  on  the  Scene —  "  An- 
derson of  New  Haven  "  —  A  Chance  to  Make  Fifty  Dollars  in  Five  Minutes 

—  A  Warm  Discussion  —  A  "Doctored"  Horse  —  A  Trusty  Groom — A 
Critical  Inspection  —  Arrival  of  Mr.  Wakeman  —  "Dr.  Bryan's"  Office  — 
"Just  Around  the  Corner"  —  Looking  for  the  Doctor  —  Tears  and 
Smiles,  574 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE  BEGGARS  OF  NEW  YORK  — TRAMPS,  CHEATS,  HUMBUGS, 
AND  FRAUDS  — INTERESTING  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES  — 
VICTIMS  FROM  THE  COUNTRY. 

The  Incomes  of  Professional  Beggars  —  Resorts  of  Tramps  —  Plausible  Tales 

—  A  Scotch  Fraud  —  My  Adventure  with  him  —  A  Plaintive  Appeal  — 
A  Transparent  Yarn  —  A  Disconcerted  Swindler — Claiming  Relationship 

—  An  Embarrassing  Position  —  Starting  to  Walk  to  Boston  —  A  Stricken 
Conscience  —  Helping  my  Poor  Relation  —  Thanks  an  Inch  Thick  —  Fe- 
male Frauds  —  ' '  Gentlemen  Tramps  "  —  A  Famishing  Man  —  Eating 
Crusts  out  of  the  Gutter  —  A  Tale  of  Woe  —  A  Fraud  with  a  Crushed  Leg 
and  a  Starving  Family  —  A  Distressing  Case  —  The  Biter  Bitten  —  The 
Calif ornian  with  a  Wooden  Leg  —  The  Rattle-Snake  Dodge  —  "Old 
Aunty  "  and  her  Methods —  "  God  Bless  You,  Deary  "  —  Blind  Frauds  and 
Humbugs  — Easily  Taken  in  — My  Experience  with  a  Bunco-Steerer,  584 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

"UP  THE  SPOUT"  — PAWN-BROKERS  AND  THEIR  WAYS  — A 
VISIT  TO  THE  SHOP  OF  "MY  UNCLE  '  — PERSONAL  EXPE- 
RIENCES. 

"My  Uncle"  — A  Cold -Blooded  Friendship  —  Royal  Pawners  — Buried  Treas- 
ure —  A  Sharp  Lot  —  Slang  of  the  Trade  —  Putting  a  Watch  "  in  Soak  "— 
The  Three  Gold  Balls  of  the  Pawnbroker's  Sign  — An  Anxious  Customer 
— A  Cautious  Tradesman  —  How  a  Sharper  Got  the  Better  of  his  "  Uncle  " 
—  The  "Office"  —  A  Heart-Hardening  Trade  —  Making  a  Raise  —  How  I 
Pawned  my  Watch  —  A  Friend  in  Need  —  Simon's  Indignation  —  A  Sud- 
den Fall  in  Values  —  Suspected  of  Knavery  —  Pawning  Stolen  Goods  — 
Police  Regulations  —  Selling  Unredeemed  Pledges — What  the  "Spout"  is 
— "Hanging  Up" — One  Way  of  Selling  Goods  —  Fraudulent  Pawning  — 
Tales  that  Pledges  Might  Unfold  — From  Affluence  to  the  Potter's  Field  — 
Drink  the  Mainspring  of  the  Pawnbroker's  Success,  603 


32 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

STREET  VENDERS  AND  SIDEWALK  bfERCH ANTS — HOW  SKIN 
GAMES  AND  PETTY  SWINDLES  ARE  PLAYED  — "  BEATEN' 
THE  ANGELS  FOR  LYINV 

Dirty  Jake  —  A  Silent  Appeal  —  A  Melancholy  Face  —  Three  Dollars  a  Day 
for  Lungs  and  Tongue  —  Stickfast's  Glue  —  A  Windy  Trade  —  A  Couple 
of  Rogues — Spreading  Dismay  and  Consternation  —  Partners  in  Sin  — 
sly  Confederates  in  the  Crowd  —  How  to  Sell  Kindling-Wood  —  A  .Mean 
Trick  and  How  it  is  Played  —  A  Skin  Game  in  Soap — Frail  Human 
Nature  —  Petty  Swindles  —  Drawing  a  Crowd  —  "The  Great  Chain 
Lightnin'  Double-Refined,  Centennial,  Night-Bloomin'  Serious  Soap"  — 
Spoiling  Thirteen  Thousand  Coats  —  The  Patent  Grease-Eradicator  — 
Inspiring  Confidence  —  "Beatin'  the  Angels  for  Lyin'"  —  A  Sleight  of 
Hand  Performance  —  "  They  Looks  Well,  an'  They're  Cheap,    .  614 


CIIAPTEK  XXXIII. 

(J  AMBLERS  AND  GAMBLING  —  A  MIDNIGHT  VISIT  TO  GAMBLING- 
HOUSES  OF  HIGH  AND  LOW  DEGREE  — A  GLIMPSE  BEHIND 
THE  SCENES. 

A  Flourishing  Evil  —  A  Night  Visit  to  a  Fashionable  Gambling-House  —  How 
Entrance  is  Gained  —  "All  Right,  Charley" — Magnificent  Midnight  Sup- 
pers—  Midnight  Scenes  —  Who  Pays  the  Bills  ?  —  A  Secret  Understanding 
—  One  Hundred  and  Eighteen  Thousand  Dollars  Lost  in  Eight  Hours  — 
Dissipating  a  Fortune  —  Buried  in  a  Pauper's  Grave — "Square"  Games 
and  ' '  Skin  "  Games  —  Fleecing  a  Victim  at  Faro  —  How  it  is  Done — Inge- 
nuity of  Sharpers  —  Drugged  and  Robbed  —  "  Dead  Men  Tell  no  Tales"  — 
A  Tale  that  the  Rivers  Might  Unfold — A  Club-House  with  Unknown 
Members  —  The  Downfall  of  Hundreds  of  Young  Men  —  Why  Employers 
are  Robbed  —  An  Interesting  Photograph —  A  "  Full  Night  "—Gambling- 
Houses  for  Boys  —  Confidence  Men  —  "  Sleepers  "  —  Low  Gambling- 
Houses  —  "  Lookouts  "  —  "  Every  Man  for  Himself,"  628 


WHAT  THE  PUBLISHERS  GUARANTEE. 
JST Subscribers  please  notice:  — 

1st.  The  Publishers  of  this  new  and  important  book  desire  to  state  to  sub- 
scribers that  each  copy  delivered  shall  be  fully  equal  to  the  standard  of  the  Agent's 
canvassing-book;  otherwise  those  who  order  tin  work  need  not  feel  bound  to  accept  or  pay 
for  the  same. 

2d.  This  work  is  sold  only  to  those  who  order  it  in  advance  of  publication 
through  regularly  appointed  agents.  It  is  not,  nor  wUl  it  ever  be,  placed  "it  safe 

in  any  bookstore 

Our  agents  are  instructed  to  leave  a  card  with  every  subscriber  embodying 
the  above  guarantee  and  stating  the  price  of  the  volume.  tW  Subscribers  will 
please  notice  that  if  this  work  is  not  just  as  good  as  represented  by  this  Canvassing-book, 
in  e eery  particular,  then  tliey  need  not  feel  under  the  slightest  obligation  to  receive  or  pay 
for  the  volume  when  it  is  delivered. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

LOW  LODGING-HOUSES  OF  NEW  YORK  —  PLACES  THAT  FOSTER 
CRIME  AND  HARBOR  CRIMINALS  —  DENS  OF  THIEVES. 

The  Breeding-Places  of  Crime  —  Dens  of  Thieves  —  How  Boys  and  Young 
Men  from  the  Country  are  Lured  to  Ruin  —  From  the  Lodging-House  to 
the  Gallows  —  A  Night's  Lodging  for  Three  Cents  —  Low,  Dirty,  and 
Troublesome  Places — Hotbeds  of  Crime — Leaves  from  my  own  Experience 

—  Illustrative  Cases  —  A  Forger's  Crime  and  its  Results  — A  Unique 
Photograph  —  The  Pride  of  a  Bowery  Tough — "Holding  up"  a  Victim 

—  The  Importation  of  Foreign  Criminals  —  A  Human  Ghoul  —  How  Ex- 
Convicts  Drift  back  into  Crime  —  The  Descent  into  the  Pit  —  Black 
Sheep,  645 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

SCIENTIFIC  BURGLARS  AND  EXPERT  CRACKSMEN  —  HOW  BANK- 
VAULTS  AND  SAFES  ARE  OPENED  AND  ROBBED  —  THE 
TOOLS,  PLANS,  OPERATIONS,  AND  LEADERS  OF  HIGHLY- 
BRED  CRIMINALS. 

An  Important  Profession  —  Highly-Bred  Rogues  — The  Lower  Ranks  of  Thieves 
—  Professional  Bank-Burglars  and  their  Talents  —  Misspent  Years  — A 
Startling  Statement  about  Safes  —  The  Race  between  Burglars  and  Safe- 
builders  —  How  Safes  are  Opened  — Mysteries  of  the  Craft  —  Safe-Blow- 
ing—  How  Combination  Locks  are  Picked  — A  Delicate  Touch  —  Throw- 
ing Detectives  off  the  Scent  —  A  Mystery  for  Fifteen  Years —  Leaders  of 
Gangs  —  Conspiring  to  Rob  a  Bank — Working  from  an  Adjoining  Build 
ing  —  Disarming  Suspicion  —  Shadowing  Bank  Officers  — Working  thr«  mgli 
the  Cashier  —  Making  False  and  Duplicate  Keys  —  The  Use  of  High  Ex- 
plosives—  Safe-Breakers  and  their  Tools  —  Ingenious  Methods  of  Expert 
Criminals  —  Opening  a  Safe  in  Twenty  Minutes  —  Fagin  and  his  Pupils- 
Taking  Impressions  of  Store  Locks  in  Wax — Teaching  Young  Thieves,  657 


(33) 


34 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

BANK  SNEAK-THIEVES  AND  THEIR  CHARACTERISTICS  —  PLOTS 
AND  SCHEMES  FOR  ROBBING  MONEYED  INSTITUTIONS  —  A 
DARING  LOT  OF  ROGUES. 

Characteristics  of  Bank  Sneak-Thieves  — Rogues  of  Education  and  Pleasing 
Address— Nervy  Criminals  of  Unlimited  Cheek  — How  Bank  Thieves 
Work  —  Some  of  their  Exploits  —  Carefully  Laid  Plots  —  Extraordinary 
Attention  to  Details  — A  Laughable  Story  — A  Wily  Map-Peddler  — 
Escaping  with  Twenty  Thousand  Dollars  — A  New  Clerk  in  a  Bank  — 
Watching  for  Chances— A  Decidedly  Cool  Thief —  A  Mysterious  Loss 
—  A  Good  Impersonator— Watching  a  Venerable  Coupon-Cutter  —  Story 
of  a  Tin  Box  —  Mysterious  Loss  of  a  Bundle  of  Bonds  — How  the  Loss 
was  Discovered  Three  Months  Afterwards  — An  Astonished  Old  Gentle- 
man—A Clerk  in  an  Ink-Bedabbled  Duster— How  the  Game  is  Worked 
in  Country  Banks  —  Unsuspecting  Cashiers  —  Adroit  Rogues,     .  672 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

COMMON  HOUSEBREAKERS  — THIEVES  WHO  LAUGH  AT  LOCKS 
AND  BOLTS  —  RECEIVERS  OF  STOLEN  GOODS  —  HOW  A 
"FENCE"  IS  CONDUCTED. 

Useless  Locks  and  Bolts  —  The  Sneak-Thief  and  His  Methods — Masks  on 
Their  Faces  and  Murder  in  Their  Hearts  —  Faithless  Servants  —  Fright- 
ened Sleepers  —  Criminals  but  Cowards — Scared  Away  by  Rats  —  Dog- 
ging Their  Victims  Home  —  Thefts  of  Diamonds  —  Second-Story  Thieves 
—  Pillaging  Houses  During  the  Supper  Hour  —  Ranks  in  Crime  — 
Hotel  and  Boarding-House  Thieves  —  Unsuspecting  Prey  —  A  Hotel 
Thief's  Tools  and  Methods  —  A  Man  Who  Laughs  at  Bolts  and  Bars  — 
A  Bewildering  Mystery  —  Manipulating  a  Thumb-Bolt  —  Watching  the 
Hotel  Register  —  Disastrous  Female  Vanity  —  Why  the  Boarder  did  not 
go  Down  to  Dinner  —  Prompt  to  Escape  but  Hard  to  Track  —  How 
Stolen  Property  is  Disposed  of  — Receivers  or  "Fences,"  ...  679 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE  ROGUES'  GALLERY  — WHY  THIEVES  ARE  PHOTOGRAPHED 
—  TELL-TALE  SIGNS  —  PECULIARITIES  OF  CRIMINALS. 

"Where  Have  I  Seen  That  Man  Before?"  — Who  is  it?  — A  Sudden  Look 
of  Recognition  —  A  Notorious  Burglar  in  Fashion's  Throng  —  A  Swell- 
Cracksman— The  Rogues'  Gallery  — Its  Object  and  its  Usefulness  — 
How  Criminals  Try  to  Cheat  the  Camera  — How  Detectives  Recognize 
Their  Prey  —  Ineffaceable  Tell-Tale  Signs  — The  Art  of  Deception  — 
Human  Vanity  Before  the  Camera —Slovenly  Criminals  — Flash  Crimi- 
nals—  The  Weaknesses  of  Criminals  —  Leading  Double  Lives  —  A  Strange 
Fact  —  Criminals  Who  are  Model  Husbands  and  Fathers  at  Home  — 
Some  Good  Traits  in  Criminals  —  Mistaken  Identity — Peculiarities  of 
Dress  — A  Mean  Scoundrel  —  Picking  Pockets  at  Wakes  and  Funerals  —  A 
Solemn  Looking  Pair  of  Rascals  — The  Lowest  Type  of  Criminals.  689 


CONTENTS. 


35 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

CUNNING  SHOPLIFTERS  AND  SKILLFUL  PICKPOCKETS— FEMALE 
OPERATORS  AND  HOW  THEY  WORK  -  YIELDING  TO  SUD- 
DEN TEMPTATIONS. 

A  Congenial  Crime  for  Women  —  An  Open  Field  for  the  Shoplifter — The 
Shoplifter's  Dress  and  its  Many  Pockets— A  Detective's  Ruse  — Working 
with  a  Confederate  —  Kleptomaniacs  —  Conscience  Stifled  by  Cupidity  — 
Detection,  and  its  Results  — An  Adroit  Thief  and  his  Wonderful  Bag- 
Working  in  Gangs— Swallowing  Gems— Pickpockets  and  their  Rovings 
—  Personal  Appearance  of  Pickpockets  —  How  a  Woman  lay  Concealed 
for  Years  —  Working  under  a  Shawl  or  Overcoat  —  The  Use  of  the  Knife  — 
An  Overcoat  without  Pockets  —  Robberies  at  Churches  and  Funerals  — 
"  Working"  Horse-Cars  and  Railroad  Trains  —  Quarrels  among  Thieves  — 
How  a  Victim  Betrays  Himself  to  the  Gang  —  ' '  Working  a  Crowd  "  —  A 
Delicate  Touch  —  Signals  between  Confederates  —  Stealing  Watches,  698 


CHAPTER  XL. 

FORGERS  AND  THEIR  METHODS  — WILY  DEVICES  AND  BRAINY 
SCHEMES  OF  A  DANGEROUS  CLASS  — TRICKS  ON  BANKS  — 
HOW  BUSINESS  MEN  ARE  DEFRAUDED. 

A  Crime  That  is  Easily  Perpetrated,  and  Detected  with  Difficulty  —  Pro- 
fessional Forgers  —  Men  of  Brains  —  Secret  Workshops  —  Raising  Checks 

—  A  Forger's  Agents  and  Go-betweens  —  The  Organization  of  a  Gang 

—  How  They  Cover  Their  Tracks  —  In  the  Clutches  of  Sharpers  —  The 
First  Step  in  Crime  —  Various  Methods  of  Passing  Forged  Paper  — 
Paving  the  Way  for  an  Operation  —  Dangerous  Schemes  —  Daring  and 
Clever  Forgeries  —  Interesting  Cases  —  How  Banks  are  Defrauded  —  Es- 
tablishing Confidence  with  a  Bank  —  A  Smart  Gang  —  Altering  and  Rais- 
ing Checks  and  Drafts  —  How  Storekeepers  aad  Business  Men  are  De- 
frauded —  Cashing  a  Burnt  Check  —  Crafty  and  Audacious  Forgers  — 
A  Great  Plot  Frustrated  —  Deceiving  the  Head  of  a  Foreign  Detective 
Bureau  —  A  Remarkable  Story  —  Startling  and  Unexpected  News,  711 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

FRAUDS  EXPOSED  —  ACCOMPLISHED  ADVENTURERS  AND 
FASHIONABLE  ADVENTURESSES  —  PEOPLE  WHO  LIVE  BY 
THEIR  WITS  — GETTING  A  LIVING  BY  HOOK  OR  BY  CROOK. 

Human  Harpies  —  Confiding  Boarders  —  Relieving  a  Pretty  Woman's  Em- 
barrassment—  The  Tables  Turned  —  A  Fashionable  and  Accomplished 
Adventuress  —  Swindlers  in  Society  —  Ingenious  Money -Making  Schemes 

—  "Engineering  Beggars"  —  Plying  a  Miserable  Trade — "Hushing  it 
up  for  His  Family's  Sake"  —  Literary  Blackmail  —  Practising  upon 
Human  Vanity — Matrimonial  Advertising — A  Matrimonial  Bureau  and 
its  Victims  —  Bogus  Detectives — A  Mean  and  Contemptible  Lot  —  Run- 
ning with  the  Hare  and  Hunting  with  the  Hounds  —  Getting  a  Living 
by  Hook  or  by  Crook  —  Shyster  Lawyers  —  Quack  Doctors  Who  "Cure 
All  Diseases"  —  The  Heraldic  Swindler — Free-Lunchers  and  Floaters 

—  Fortune-Tellers  and  Clairvoyants  —  Transparent  Stratagems,   .  721 


36  CONTEXTS. 


CHAPTEE  XLIL 

SHARPERS,  CONFIDENCE-MEN  AND  BUNCO-STEERERS  —  WIDE 
OPEN  TRAPS  — TRICKS  OF  "  SAWDUST "  AND  "  GREEN- 
GOODS  "  DEALERS. 

The  Buneo-Steerer's  Victims  —  Glib  Talkers  and  Shrewd  Thieves — Watching 
Incoming  Trains  and  Steamers  —  Accomplished  Swindlers — Personal 
Appearance  of  a  Confidence  Gang — Robbing  the  Same  Man  Twice  — 
Headquarters  of  Bunco  Men — Plausible  Stories — Different  Forms  of 
Bunco  Games — A  Noted  Bunco  Operator  —  Hungry  Joe  and  his  Victims 
—  How  a  Confiding  Englishman  was  Robbed  —  The  Three  Card  Trick  — 
Arrest  of  "  Captain  Murphy's  Nephew  "  —  A  Game  of  Bluff  —  Swindling 
an  Episcopal  Clergyman  —  Pumping  a  Victim  Dry  —  Working  the  Panel- 
Game —  A  Green-Goods  Man's  Circular  —  The  Spider's  Instructions  to  the 
Fly  —  Seeking  a  Personal  Interview  —  Victims  from  the  Rural  Districts  — 
The  Supreme  Moment  of  the  Game  —  Seeing  the  Victim  off  —  Moral,  728 


INTRODUCTION. 


45 


of  life,  its  lights  and  shadows,  sunshine  and  darkness;  the 
misery  and  horror  that  surround  the  lowest  forms  of  human 
existence  in  such  a  great  city;  the  sights  and  scenes  concealed 
by  night  and  rarely  revealed  by  the  light  of  day  are  here  faith- 
fully depicted.  The  story  will  hold  the  reader's  attention  with 
a  fascination  greater  than  the  tales  of  "Arabian  Nights,"  or 
the  w^eird  fancies  of  "  Monte  Cristo." 

If  some  of  the  incidents  and  experiences  narrated  here  are 
painful,  they  should  nevertheless  be  told,  in  order  that  the 
public  may  be  brought  face  to  face  with  life  as  it  exists  among 
the  poor  and  criminal  classes  of  the  great  metropolis.  In  his 
preface  to  " Oliver  Twist,"  Charles  Dickens  truthfully  says:  — 
kiI  have  yet  to  learn  that  a  lesson  of  the  purest  good  may  not 
be  drawn  from  the  vilest  evil.  I  have  always  believed  this  to 
be  a  recognized  and  established  truth,  laid  down  by  the  greatest 
men  the  world  has  ever  seen,  constantly  acted  upon  by  the 
best  and  wisest  natures,  and  confirmed  by  the  reason  and  ex- 
perience of  every  thinking  mind."  In  the  following  pages  the 
reader  will  be  taken  up  to  the  topmost  garrets  and  down  to 
the  lowest  cellars,  in  dens  and  hovels  given  over  to  thieves, 
and  in  tenements  crowded  by  the  poor.  There  is  a  Bill  Sykes 
and  a  Nancy  in  scores  of  these  places.  Little  girls  are  often 
sent  for  Nancy's  gin,  and  little  boys  look  up.  half  with  awe 
and  half  with  admiration,  at  Bill's  flash  style,  and  delight  in 
gossip  concerning  his  adventures  as  a  pickpocket.  Thus  the 
constant  association  of  the  poor  and  criminal  classes  is  steadily 
deadening  in  the  former  nearly  all  sense  of  right  and  wrong, 
and  children  are  brought  up  in  an  atmosphere  of  crime. 

Bad,  however,  as  is  the  condition  in  which  thousands  of 
men,  women,  and  children  live  in  New  York  city,  from  the 
cradle  to  the  grave,  it  is  hoped  that  out  of  the  very  repulsive- 
ness  of  this  life  a  remedy  may  be  found  for  some  of  the  evils 
portrayed. 

The  text  has  been  most  carefully  and  very  fully  illustrated 
by  upwards  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  engravings  selected  from 
nearly  a  thousand  photographs  taken  from  life  especially  for 
this  volume.    In  the  production  of  these  remarkable  illustra- 


INTRODUCTION. 


tions  the  sun  has  been  chained  to  serve  in  giving  faithful  delin- 
eations of  the  Life  and  scenes  described;  and  not  only  the  sun 
but  the  artificial  flash-light  as  well,  without  the  aid  of  which 
many  of  these  pictures  could  not  have  been  obtained.* 

To  the  student  of  human  nature,  to  the  moralist  and 
philosopher,  to  hini  who  is  a  part  of  the  active  life  of  the  city 
and  feels  its  heart-throbs  day  by  day,  —  to  him  whose  home  is 
in  rural  retreats,  to  the  lover,  yes,  and  the  hater  of  his  race,  it 
is  believed  that  the  following  pages  will  prove  not  only  inter- 
esting but  a  mine  of  information  and  amusement,  besides  sup- 
plying material  for  profound  thought.  He  who  reads  but  to 
laugh  will  find  what  he  seeks,  as  well  as  he  who  reads  only 
that  he  may  weep.  The  humorous  side  of  life  is  depicted  no 
less  than  its  serious  and  pathetic  phases;  for  among- the  poor 
there  is  humor  as  well  as  pathos,  there  is  food  for  laughter  as 
well  as  for  tears,  and  the  rays  of  God's  sunshine  lose  their  way 
now  and  again  and  bring  light  and  gladness  into  the  vilest  of 
XeAV  York  slums.  The  story  ranges  "  from  grave  to  gay,  from 
lively  to  severe,"  and  tragedy  and  comedy  are  found  side  by 
side.  The  smile  and  the  tear  are  often  blended  and  succeed 
each  other  as  darkness  and  daylight  come  and  go  as  time  rolls 
onward. 


*  See  Publishers'  Preface  for  full  explanation  of  how  the  photographs  were 
taken  from  which  the  illustrations  in  this  volume  were  made. 


PART  I. 


PART  I  was  written  by  Mrs.  Helen  Campbell,  the  well-known  author  and 
philanthropist,  a  Christian  woman  and  a  brilliant  writer,  who  has  devoted  the  best 
years  of  her  life  to  Christian  work  among  the  lower  classes.  She  certainly  was 
an  officer  commissioned  of  God,  and  ' '  In  His  Name  "  ministered  not  only  to  the  sick 
and  the  poor,  but  to  degraded  and  desperate  men  and  women  in  haunts  of  wicked- 
ness and  vice.  Her  narrative  is  a  thrilling  record  of  mission  work  and  Christian 
endeavor  packed  with  pathetic  and  amusing  experiences.  Her  account  of  Gospel 
work  as  now  carried  on  in  vile  localities  by  converts  from  the  lowest  depths  ;  of 
underground  life  in  basements  and  cellars  where  lodgings  maybe  had  for  "three 
cents  a  spot"  ;  of  child  life  in  the  slums  ;  of  homeless  street  boys;  of  hospital  life, 
flower  missions,  etc.,  will  chain  the  readers  close  attention  from  beginning  to  end. 

Perhaps  the  strongest  interest,  however,  centers  around  her  experiences  in  tough 
places,  in  which  she  describes  night  life  as  it  is  in  the  great  under  world  of  New 
York.  Her  vivid  account  of  night  mission  work,  interspersed  with  pathetic  inci- 
dents and  heart-breaking  scenes,  shows  the  beautiful  side  of  womanhood,  as  well  as 
the  reverse.  Her  description  of  how  all  night  missionaries  and  rescue  bands  search 
for  the  lost  in  stale-beer  dives,  in  lodging  cellars,  and  on  the  streets ;  of  the  wonder- 
ful power  of  the  Gospel  to  move  hard  hearts  and  save  the  lost  from  the  lowest 
depths  ;  of  the  marvelous  effect  of  familiar  hymns  sung  in  haunts  of  vice  ;  of 
scenes  in  night  refuges  for  women  —  noticeably  the  Florence  Night  Mission  —  is  a 
story  of  profound  and  thrilling  interest,  that  will  bring  tears  to  every  eye. 

She  has  often  been  asked  to  give  this  wonderful  record  to  the  world,  but  she 
has  always  declined  to  do  so  until  now.  Not  long  ago  some  of  the  most 
eminent  men  and  women  of  the  times  urged  her  to  write  it,  and  she  finally  consented. 
This  volume  is  the  result,  and  it  is  the  best  testimony  to  the  mighty  power  of  the 
Gospel  that  was  ever  written. 

§W  The  Gospel  and  Charity  are  the  beacon  lights  of  Mrs. 
Campbell's  story. 


CHAPTER  I. 

SUNDAY  IN  WATER  STREET  —  HOMES  OF  REVELRY  AND  VIC  E  — 
SCENES  IN  THE  MISSION  ROOM  — STRANGE  EXPERIENCES. 

Water  Street,  its  Life  and  Surroundings  —  A  Harvest  Field  for  Saloons  and 
Bucket-Shops  —  Dens  of  Abomination  —  Sunday  Sights  and  Scenes  —  The 
Little  Sign,  "Helping  Hand  for  Men"  —  Inside  the  Mission  Building  — 
An  Audience  of  ex-Convicts  and  Criminals  —  A  Tough  Crowd  —  Jerry 
McAuley's  Personal  Appearance  —  A  Typical  Ruffian  —  A  Shoeless  and 
Hatless  Brigade — Pinching  Out  the  Name  of  Jesus — "God  Takes  what 
the  Devil  Would  Turn  up  His  Nose  at  " — "  O,  Dear-r,  Dear-r,  Dearie 
Me!"  —  Comical  Scenes  —  Quaint  Speeches  —  Screams  and  Flying  Stove- 
Lids— A  Child's  Hymn  — "Our  Father  in  Heaven,  We  Hallow  Thy 
Name"  — Old  Padgett  —  A  Water  Street  Bum— "God  be  Merciful  to 
Me  a  Sinner"— A  Terrible  Night  in  a  Cellar  — The  Empty  Arm-Chair. 

FOR  six  days  in  the  week  the  gray-fronted  Avarehouses  on 
Water  Street,  grim  and  forbidding,  seem  to  hold  no 
knowledge  that  Sunday  can  come.  All  the  week,  above  the 
roar  of  heavy  teams,  and  the  shouts  and  oaths  of  excited 
drivers  as  wheels  lock  and  traffic  is  for  a  moment  brought  to  a 
standstill,  one  hears  the  roar  of  steam,  the  resounding  beat  of 
great  hammers,  the  clash  of  metal  as  the  iron  plates  take  shape. 

(49) 


52 


JERRY    M' All  .E  V  S   WATEU   STREET  MISSION. 


ment-house  holds  its  quota  of  defrauded,  vicious,  and  well-nigh 
hopeless  human  life  \ 

A  step  or  two  farther,  and  the  question  is  answered.  A 
plain  brick  building  shows  itself;  a  carefully  kept  walk  before 

it.  The  wide 
doors  are 
closed  with  a 
spring  lock-, 
and  on  the 
steps  stands 
a  policeman, 
waiving  off 
the  children 
a  n  d  h  a  If  - 
grown  boys 
who  make 
occasional 
rushes  to- 
w a r  d  the 
building  and 
smash  its 
windows  by 
volleys  o  f 
stones.  It  is 
the  Water 
Street  Mis- 
sion; and 
though  the 
rare  soul  of 
its  founder 
has  passed  on 

to  the  larger  life  for  which  it  waited,  his  work  is  still  done  as 
he  planned  at  the  beginning. 

Jerry  McAuley,  born  a  thief,  and  with  a  lengthening  record 
of  crime  ;  a  bully,  drunkard,  and  convict  !  who  does  not  know 
his  story  and  the  work  of  the  thirteen  years  in  which  he 
labored  for  the  ward  in  which  he  had  grown  up,  and  which  he 


THE  WATER  STREET  MISSION. 


56  PINCHING  OUT  THE  NAME  OF  JESUS. 

Quaker  bonnet,  and  announced  herself  an  inveterate  drunkard, 
I  could  not  have  been  more  profoundly  amazed.  I  studied  the 
sweet,  steady  face ;  not  a  line  of  it  bearing  any  meaning  but 
that  of  love  and  cheer  and  helpfulness,  with  an  even,  merry  ex- 
pression about  the  lips,  that  smiled  involuntarily  at  the  un- 
expected turns  of  thought  and  speech  from  one  and  another. 

Half  a  dozen  spring  up  at  once,  and  sit  down  smiling, 
watching  their  turn.  A  flood  of  experience  pours  out,  some 
eight  or  ten  occupying  not  more  than  five  minutes : 

"I  came  in  here  fresh  from  a  three-years  term,  and  Jesus 
saved  me." 

'"Fifteen  weeks  ago  to-night  I  rolled  in  here  so  drunk  I 
couldn't  stand,  and  God  saved  me  that  very  night/' 

"  Eight  months  ago  I  was  a  wicked  woman,  none  but  God 
knows  how  wicked,  though  some  here  has  had  a  taste  of  it,  and 
Jesus  saved  meP 

Then  a  woman  rose ;  a  markedly  Jewish  face,  and  the 
strong  accent  of  the  German  Jew. 

"  I  bless  Gott  dat  ever  I  come  here.  O,  my  tear  friends, 
how  vill  I  tell  you  how  vicket  I  vas  !  So  vicket !  I  schvear, 
und  tell  lies,  und  haf  such  a  demper  I  trow  de  dishes  at  mine 
husband  ven  he  come  to  eat.  And  I  hated  dem  Christians  so  ! 
I  say,  dey  should  be  killed  efery  one.  I  vould  hurt  dem  if  I 
could.  One  time  a  Bible  reader  she  come  und  gif  me  a  Bible. 
Yen  I  see  de  New  Testament,  I  begin  mit  mine  fingers,  und 
efery  day  I  pinch  out  de  name  of  Jesus.  It  take  a  goot  vhile. 
Efery  day  I  haf  to  read  so  to  see  de  name  of  Jesus,  und  efery 
day  I  pinch  him  out.  Den  at  last  it  is  all  out  und  I  am  glad. 
Oh.  vhat  shame  it  makes  me  now  to  see  dat  Bible  so!  Den 
mine  husband  runs  avay  und  leaf  me  und  de  five  children,  und 
I  cannot  get  vork  enough,  und  ve  go  hungry.  I  vas  in  such 
drouble.  Und  one  day  mine  neighbor  comes,  und  she  say, 
k  ( !ome  mit  me.  I  go  to  a  nice  place.'  All  de  time  I  remem- 
ber some  vords  I  read  in  dat  Testament,  und  dey  shtick  to  me. 
So  I  come,  but  I  say,  '  I  am  a  Jew,  I  like  not  to  come.'  Dere 
vas  a  man,  und  he  say  he  been  a  Jew,  too,  und  I  could  spit  on 
him;  but  den  1  begins  to  gry,  I  feels  so  queer,  und  den  some 


A  TYPICAL  WATER  STREET  BUM. 


57 


our  say,  'Come;  it  vonl  hurt  you  to  be  prayed  for,'  but  T  say, 
£Goavaymi1  you,  I  vill  not.'  I  keep  comin'.  It  seem  good, 
und  al  last  I  did  understand,  und  1  pray,  un'  beg  eferybody 
pray.  Oh,  my  sins  are  so  big!  1  vaut  to  lose  dem.  I  vant  to 
lofe  Jesus!  I  keep  prayin',  und  in  one  day  dey  are  all  gone. 
Oh,  I  am  so  happy.  You  vill  not  believe.  T  do  not  ever  vaut 
to  schvear  any  more.  No,  not  any  more.  I  do  not  vant  to 
holler  und  be  mad.  No,  not  any  more.  I  do  not  vant  to  tell 
lies  ;  no,  not  "any  more.  Gott  is  so  goot  to  me.  I  could  not  be 
vicket  an}^  more.    Oh,  pray  for  me,  und  help  me  to  be  goot." 

At  this  point  an  interruption  occurred.  An  old  man  in  a 
sailors  blue  shirt  had  taken  his  place  among  the  rougher  men 
near  the  door,  —  a  man  between  sixty  and  seventy,  with  every 
mark  of  long  dissipation.  His  hat  was  gone,  as  is  often  the 
case,  and  he  had  come  from  across  the  street  barefoot,  having 
pawned  his  shoes  for  a  final  drink.  Heavy  and  gross ;  his  nose 
bulging  with  rum-blossoms ;  his  thin  white  hair  gone  in 
patches,  like  the  forlorn  mangy  white  dogs  of  this  locality  ; 
trembling  with  weakness  and  incipient  "horrors,"  and  looking 
about  with  twinkling,  uncertain  blue  eyes,  he  seemed  one  of 
the  saddest  illustrations  of  what  the  old  Water  Street  had 
power  to  do.  His  seat  had  not  satisfied  him.  Once  or  twice 
he  had  changed,  and  now  he  arose  and  stumbled  up  the  aisle  to 
the  front,  sitting  down  with  a  thump,  and  looking  about  curi- 
ously at  the  new  faces.  Jerry  eyed  him  a  moment,  but  appar- 
ently decided  that  the  case  at  present  needed  no  interference. 
The  organ  sounded  the  first  notes  of  "The  Sweet  By  and  By," 
and  the  old  man  dropped  his  head  upon  his  breast  and  shed  a 
drunken  tear.    Then  looking  at  Jerry,  he  said  : 

"  (),  dear-r,  dear-r,  dearie  me !  Here  I  be !  here  I  be ! "  As 
the  words  ended,  it  seemed  to  occur  to  him  that,  like  Mr. 
Wegg,  he  had  "  fallen  into  poetry  unawares,"  and  with  great 
cheerfulness  and  briskness  he  repeated  his  couplet,  looking 
about  for  approbation.  One  of  the  "regulars"  came  and  sat 
down  by  him  and  whispered  a  few  words. 

"All  right,"  was  the  prompt  answer,  and  for  a  time  he 
remained  silent. 


58  COMICAL  SCENES  AND  QUAINT  SPEECHES. 


Another  hymn,  "Have  you  trials  and  temptations?"  was 
sung,  and  another  man  stood  up. 

"I  want  to  tell  you,  my  friends,  salt's  salt,  an'  if  the  salt 
you  salt  with  ain't  salt,  how  you  goin'  to  salt  it?" 

A  pause,  and  the  man,  flushing  deeply,  sat  down. 

"  You're  tangled  up,  like,  that's  all,"  said  Jerry.  "  I  see  well 
enough,  you  want  us  to  he  lively  Christians ;  plenty  o'  sea- 
soning and  no  wishy-washiness.    Ain't  that  it !  " 

"  That's  it,"  said  the  embarrassed  speaker  with  a  smile  of 
relief,  and  another  arose. 

"  I  tell  ye  a  man's  passions  ride  up  jest  the  way  his  collar 
does  sometimes.  You  ever  fought  with  your  own  shirt-collar, 
when  a  button's  off  an'  it  rides  up  an'  rasps  your  ears  an'  skins 
your  neck,  an'  you'd  give  half  a  dollar  to  keep  it  down  ?  That's 
me,  an'  between  tobacco,  an'  liquor,  an'  swearin',  I  tell  ye  I  had 
more'n  I  could  do.  I  thought  I'd  reform  on  me  own  hook.  I 
didn't  want  no  hangin'  on  to  somebody's  skirts  an'  goin'  into 
Heaven  that  way.  But  I  had  to  come  to  it.  I  was  jest  beaten 
every  time.  An1  now  I  hang  on,  an'  the  harder  I  hang  the 
better  I  get  along,  an'  that's  me." 

It  was  a  July  evening,  and  doors  and  windows  were  all 
open.  I  had  taken  my  place  at  the  organ,  to  relieve  for  a  time 
Mrs.  McAuley,  who  usually  presided.  Street  sounds  mingled 
with  the  hymns  and  testimonies,  and  the  policeman  found  it 
all  and  more  than  one  could  do  to  preserve  any  degree  of 
order  outside.  Back  of  the  Mission  building  is  a  high  tene- 
ment-house,  the  windows  overlooking  the  chapel  and  within 
speaking  distance.  Listening  to  the  speeches  of  the  men,  and 
fanning  to  bring  some  breath  of  coolness  into  the  stifling  air,  I 
heard  from  the  upper  rooms  of  this  tenement-house  the  sound 
of  a  fierce  quarrel.  A  man  and  woman  were  the  actors,  the 
man  apparently  sitting  quietly  and  at  intervals  throwing  out 
some  taunting  words,  for  the  woman's  voice  grew  louder  and 
shriller.  Then  came  the  crash  of  breaking  furniture;  a  scream, 
and  the  throwing  of  some  heavy  piece  of  iron;  probably  a 
stove  lid.  The  door  banged  furiously,  and  for  a  moment  there 
was  silence.    Then  began  the  snarling,  raffing  cry  <>i"  demoniac 


A  FIERCE  TOKKKNT  OF  OATHS  AND  ARTSE. 


59 


passion;  a  wild-beast  rage  that  it  curdled  the  blood  to  hear, 
interspersed  with  screams  and  oaths.  No  one  went  to  her. 
The  house  was  well  used  to  such  demonstration,  and  as  her 
fury  slackened  slightly  she  leaned  from  the  open  window  and 
looked  into  the  chapel.    Then  followed  a  volley  of  oaths. 


THE  PLATFORM  PACING  THE  AUDIENCE  IN  THE  WATER  STREET 
MISSION  ROOM. 


kk  C  ursed  heretics.  Bunch  o'  liars.  1  sphit  on  ye  all.  Ah, 
but  wouldn't  I  like  to  get  at  the  eyes  of  yees,  ye  ivery  one! 
An'  me  fine  lady  there  at  the  organ  !    ( )h,  ye  sit  there  an'  fan 

at  yer  ease  ye  .  do  ye  \    Think  ye  could  earn  yer  own  iivin', 

 ye!    Comin'  down  an'  sittin'  there  an'  niver  carin'  a  

if  all  of  us  has  our  hids  knocked  off!  What  do  ye  know  about 
throuble,—  —ye?  Ah,  let  me  get  at  ye  once,  an'  I'll  tear  ye  to 
slithers.  I'd  slatter  ye  if  1  had  the  handlin'  of  ye.  Turn 
round,  will  ye,  an'  show  yer  face  an'  I'll  sphit  on  it." 

As  the  torrent  of  oaths  and  abuse  went  on,  so  fierce  and 
furious  that  one  instinctively  shrunk  back,  fearing  some  missile 
must  follow,  a  child's  voice  from  the  room  below— a  voice  not 


60 


THE  EFFECT  OF  A  CHILD'S  HYMN. 


shrill  and  piercing,  like  that  of  many  children,  but  clear,  pure, 
and  even  —  began  singing,  to  the  air  of  "  Home,  Sweet  Home," 
a  hymn  learned  in  the  Howard  Mission ;  "  Our  Father  in 
Heaven,  we  hallow  Thy  Name." 

The  oaths  redoubled,  the  child  now  being  the  object  of 
attack,  but  she  did  not  stop,  and  each  word  came  distinct  and 
sweet.  The  man  who  had  risen  to  speak  stood  silent. 
Straight  through  to  the  end  the  little  voice  sung  on.  The 
storm  of  words  above  slackened,  then  ceased,  and  silence 
settled  down;  a  silence  that  seemed  the  counterpart  of  that 
which  came  upon  the  wild  waves  of  Galilee  when  —  then  as 
now  —  the  Saviour's  voice  had  power  to  bring  quietness  out 
of  the  storm. 

The  men,  to  whom  such  horrible  scenes  were  no  novelty, 
continued  to  narrate  their  experiences : 

"If  Heaven  had  cost  me  five  dollars  I  couldn't  V  got 
there,"  said  another.  ik  I  was  that  ragged  an  old-clothesman 
wouldn't  'a1  bid  on  me ;  no,  nor  a  ragpicker  'a'  taken  me  up  on 
his  hook;  but  here  I  am.  Oh,  I  tell  ye,  anybody  can  be  saved. 
I  said  I  couldn't  be.  I  was  too  far  gone,  but  here  I  am,  clean, 
an'  good  clothes  too.  You  say  you  can't  be  saved.  You  can 
be.  Jesus  took  holt  of  me  just  the  Avay  he  saved  wretches 
when  he  was  down  here,  an'  don't  you  suppose  His  arm  is  long 
enough  to  reach  across  eighteen  hundred  years  and  get  a  holt 
of  you  %    Try  it." 

"  Damned  hypocrites,  every  one  of  you ! "  growled  a  man 
in  the  background,  and  shuffled  out,  turning  to  shake  his  fist 
as  he  opened  the  door. 

"  There's  many  a  one  here  has  said  the  same  in  the  begin- 
ning," said  a  young  man  who  had  sprung  to  his  feet  and  stood 
looking  intently  about.  "  I  did,  for  one.  I  said  Jerry  McAuley 
was  the  biggest  liar  goin\  and  a  fraud  all  the  way  through. 
'Twas  me  was  the  liar,  and  I  said  so  when  I'd  got  strength  to 
stop  my  drinkin'  and  chewin'  and  smokin'  and  keep  out  o'  the 
gin-mills.  I'm  clean  inside  and  I'm  clean  outside  now,  and  I 
bless  the  Lord  it's  so.    Oh,  believe,  every  one  o'  you." 

''lie's  told  the  truth!"  cried  another:  "He  was  a  sneak, 


CI  I  A  FTER  II. 


CHRISTIAN  WORK  IN  WATER  STREET  — THE  STORY  OF  JERRY 
McAULEY'S  LIFE  TOLD  BY  HIMSELF —  A  CAREER  OF  WICK- 
EDNESS AND  CRIME  — THE  MISSION  NOW. 

The  Historic  Five  Points  —  Breeding-Ground  of  Crime  — Dirty  Homes  and 
Hard  Faces  — "The  Kind  God  Don't  Want  and  the  Devil  Won't  Have" 
—  Jerry  McAuley  —  The  Story  of  His  Life  Told  by  Himself  —  Born  in 
a  New  York  Slum  — A  Loafer  by  Day  and  a  River  Thief  by  Night- 
Prizefighter,  Drunkard,  Blackleg,  and  Bully  —  A  Life  of  Wickedness 
and  Grime  — Fifteen  Years  in  Prison  — His  Prison  Experiences  — Un- 
expected Meeting  with  "Awful"  Gardner  —  Jerry's  First  Prayer — He 
Hears  a  Voice  —  Released  from  Prison  —  His  Return  to  Old  Haunts 
and  Ways  —  Signing  the  Pledge  —  His  Wife  —  Starting  the  Water  Street 
Mission  —  An  Audience  of  Tramps  and  Bums  —  Becomes  an  Apostle  to 
the  Roughs  —  Jerry's  Death  —  Affecting  Scenes  —  Old  Joe  Chappy — The 
Hadley  Brothers  —  A  Mother's  Last  Words  —  A  Refuge  for  the  Wicked 
and  Depraved. 


HE  Five  Points  was  once  the  terror  of  every  policeman,  as 


1  well  as  of  every  decent  citizen  who  realized  its  existence. 
It  was  for  years  the  breeding-ground  of  crime  of  every  order, 
and  thus  the  first  workers  in  City  Mission  work  naturally 
turned  to  it  as  the  chief  spot  for  purification.  Here  the  Water 
Street  Mission  was  begun  just  after  the  Civil  War,  and  here  it 
still  continues  its  work.  Its  story  has  often  been  told,  yet  the 
interest  in  it  seems  no  less  fresh  than  at  the  time  of  its  incep- 
tion. For  years  it  w  as  headed  by  Jerry  McAuley,  a  man  whose 
absolutely  unique  personality  has  stamped  itself  forever  in  the 
minds  of  all  who  dealt  with  him  in  person.  It  is  to  him  that 
every  mission  of  the  same  general  order  owes  its  standard  of 
effort,  and  the  knowledge  of  methods  without  which  such  work 
is  powerless;  and  though  personally  he  never  claimed  this 
place,  all  who  knew  him  would  accord  it  unhesitatingly. 

I  have  often  talked  with  Jerry  and  his  wife  on  the  origin  of 


(68) 


82 


a  mother's  last  words. 


already  gone  out  into  the  world.  S.  IT.  Hadley,  the  younger, 
born  in  1843,  shall  tell  the  story  in  his  own  way  and  words  : 

S.  H.  Hadley's  Story. 

A  friend,  who  w  as  the  miller  of  the  county,  told  me  he 
would  never  speak  to  me  again  if  I  did  not  drink,  and  that  he 
would  think  I  had  some  grudge  against  him  or  felt  myself 
above  him  socially.  I  took  the  bottle  after  he  had  coaxed  me 
a  full  half  hour,  and  put  it  to  my  lips  and  drank.  Will  I  ever 
forget  that  moment?  The  vow  I  had  made  to  my  mother  was 
broken,  and  the  devil  came  in  and  took  full  possession.  My 
mother  died  a  short  time  after  this,  happily  in  ignorance  of  my 
sin.  I  was  away  from  home  that  day,  but  her  last  words  were, 
"Tell  Hopkins  to  meet  me  in  Heaven." 

By  the  side  of  my  dead  mother,  I  vowed  never  to  drink 
again,  but  in  three  days  yielded  to  the  temptation.  It  was  thus 
far  only  occasional.  My  father  died,  and  I  began  the  study  of 
medicine  with  the  village  doctor,  who  was  himself  a  heavy 
drinker,  though  a  brilliant  member  of  the  profession.  Both  of 
us  went  down  swiftly,  the  doctor  soon  drinking  himself  to 
death.  I  left  the  place,  and  after  a  little  experience  as  travel- 
ing salesman,  became  a  professional  gambler,  and  for  fifteen 
years  followed  this  life.  In  1870  I  came  to  New  York,  where 
I  had  a  tine  position  offered  me,  which  I  soon  lost.  Delirium 
tremens  came  more  than  once,  and  in  spite  of  a  strong  consti- 
tution the  time  was  reached  when  I  knew  that  death  must  soon 
result. 

One  Tuesday  evening  I  sat  in  a  saloon  in  Harlem,  a  home- 
less, friendless,  dying  drunkard.  I  had  pawned  or  sold  every- 
thing that  would  bring  drink.  I  could  not  sleep  unless  I  was 
drunk.  I  had  not  eaten  for  days,  and  for  four  nights  preced- 
ing I  had  suffered  with  delirium  tremsns,  or  the  horrors,  Prom 
midnight  till  morning.  I  had  often  said,  "1  will  never  be  a 
tram}).  I  will  never  be  cornered.  When  that  time  conies,  if 
it  ever  does,  I  will  find  a  home  in  the  bottom  of  the  river." 
But  the  Lord  so  ordered  it  that  when  that  time  did  come  I  was 
not  able  to  walk  a  quarter  of  the  way  to  the  river.    As  I  sat 


BATTLING  W  ITH  DRINK. 


83 


there  thinking,  I  seemed  to  feel  some  great  and  mighty  pres- 
ence. I  did  not  know  then  what  it  was.  I  walked  up  to  the 
bar,  and  pounding  it  with  my  list  till  I  made  the  glasses  nattle, 
I  said  I  would  never  take  another  drink  it'  I  died  in  the  street, 
and  I  felt  as  though  that  would  happen  before  morning. 

Something  said,  "  If  you  want  to  keep  this  promise  go  and 
have  yourself  locked  up."  I  went  to  the  nearest  station  house 
and  had  myself  locked  up.  I  was  put  in  a  narrow  cell,  and  it 
seemed  as  though  all  the  demons  that  could  find  room  came 
into  that  place  with  me.  This  was  not  all  the  company  I  had 
either.  No,  that  dear  Spirit  that  came  to  me  in  the  saloon 
was  present  and  said,  "Pray." 

I  did  pray,  and  kept  on  praying.  When  I  was  released  I 
found  my  way  to  my  brother's  house,  where  every  care  was 
given  me.  While  lying  in  bed  the  admonishing  spirit  never 
left  me,  and  when  I  arose  the  following  Sunday  morning  I  felt 
that  that  day  would  decide  my  fate.  Toward  evening  it  came 
into  my  head  to  go  over  to  the  Cremorne  Mission  and  hear 
Jerry  McAjaley. 

I  went.  The  house  was  packed,  and  with  great  difficulty  I 
made  my  way  to  the  space  near  the  platform.  There  I  saw 
the  apostle  to  the  drunkard  and  outcast,  Jerry  McAuley.  He 
rose  and  amid  deep  silence  told  his  experience.  There  was 
something  about  this  man  that  carried  conviction  with  it,  and 
I  found  myself -saying,  "  I  wonder  if  God  can  save  me." 

I  listened  to  the  testimony  of  many  who  had  been  saved 
from  rum,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  be  saved  or 
die  right  there.  When  the  invitation  to  kneel  for  prayer  was 
given  I  knelt  down  with  quite  a  crowd  of  drunkards.  I  was  a 
total  stranger,  but  I  felt  I  had  sympathy,  and  it  helped  me. 
Jerry  made  the  first  prayer.  T  shall  never  forget  it,  He  said, 
"Dear  Saviour,  won't  you  look  down  on  these  poor  souls? 
They  need  your  help,  Lord  ;  they  can't  get  along  without  it, 
Blessed  Jesus,  these  poor  sinners  have  got  themselves  into  a 
bad  hole.  Won't  you  help  them  out  ?  Speak  to  them,  Lord. 
I  )o.  6  >r  Jesus'  sake.  Amen." 

Then  Jerry  said,  "  Now.  all  keep  on  your  knees,  and  keep 


84 


A  drunkard's  prayer. 


praying  while  I  ask  these  dear  souls  to  pray  for  themselves." 
He  spoke  to  one  after  another  as  he  placed  his  hands  on  their 
heads.  "  Brother,  you  pray.  Now  tell  the  Lord  just  what  you 
want  Him  to  do  for  you." 

How  I  trembled  as  he  approached  me.  I  felt  like  hacking 
out.  The  devil  knelt  by  my  side  and  whispered  in  my  ear,  re- 
minding me  of  crimes  I  had  forgotten  for  months.  tk  What 
are  you  going  to  do  about  such  and  such  matters  if  you  start 
to  be  a  Christian  to-night  %  Xow  you  can't  afford  to  make  a 
mistake.  Hadn't  you  better  think  this  matter  over  awhile, 
and  try  to  fix  up  some  of  the  troubles  you  are  in,  and  then 
start?" 

Oh,  what  a  conflict  was  going  on  for  my  poor  soul !  Jerry's 
hand  was  on  my  head.  He  said,  "Brother,  pray."  I  said, 
"Can't  you  pray  for  me?"  Jerry  said,  "  All  the  prayers  in 
the  world  won't  save  you  unless  you  pray  for  yourself." 

I  halted  but  a  moment,  and  then  I  said  with  breaking 
heart,  "  Dear  Jesus,  can  you  help  me  ?  " 

Never  can  I  describe  that  moment.  Although  my  soul  had 
been  filled  with  indescribable  gloom,  I  felt  the  glorious  bright- 
ness of  the  noonday  sun  shine  into  my  heart.  I  felt  I  was  a 
free  man. 

From  that  moment  to  this  I  have  never  tasted  a  drink  of 
whiskey,  and  I  have  never  seen  enough  money  to  make  me  take 
one.  I  promised  God  that  night  that  if  He  would  take  away 
the  appetite  for  strong  drink  I  would  work  for  Him  all  my 
life.  He  has  done  His  part,  and  I  have  been  trying  to  do 
mine.  It  took  four  years  to  make  my  brother  believe  I  was  in 
earnest.  He  believed  it  fast  enough  when  he  was  converted 
himself.  He  is  a  splendid-looking  man,  a  colonel  in  the  army, 
and  is  doing  rescue  work,  and  will  as  long  as  he  lives,  with  all 
his  money  and  all  his  strength.  He  had  a  newspaper  run  in 
the  interest  of  gin-mills,  and  the  day  after  he  was  converted  he 
cut  out  every  advertisement  that  they  had  given  him.  k*  This 
pa pei1  is  converted,  too,"  he  said,  and  it  was  a  queer  looking 
paper  when  he  got  through. 

I  was  called  to  take  charge  of  the  Water  Street  Mission 


COFFEE  NIGHT  AT  THE  WATER  STREET  .MISSION. 


87 


alter  I  had  been  working  with  all  my  might  for  four  years  in 
tlx1  Cremorne,  and  here  I  am  settled  with  my  wife  and  two 
other  missionaries,  one  of  whom  everybody  in  the  ward  knows 
as  well  as  ever  they  knew  Jerry.  "Mother  Sherwood"  they 
all  call  her.  We  run  low  in  funds  often,  for  it  costs  $4,000 
a  year  to  carry  on  the  work.  When  a-  man  starts  on  a  better 
life  the  odds  are  often  against  him,  and  he  must  he  helped  for 
awhile  with  food,  clothing,  and  whatever  else  may  he  wanted. 

Saturday  night  is  u  coffee  night"  at  the  Mission  room. 
Many  a  poor  discouraged  fellow,  who  has  been  looking  for 
work  and  found  none,  and  gone  on  short  commons  a  whole 
week,  drifts  in  here  on  Saturday  afternoon,  knowing  that  he  will 
get  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  sandwich  in  the  evening.  There  are 
plenty  of  bummers  and  tramps  in  our  Saturday  night  crowd, 
and  some  a  good  deal  worse  than  either,  too.  We  weed  out  a 
few,  hut  we  try  to  keep  nearly  all,  for  who  knows  what 
may  come  to  them  ?  Empty  cups  are  placed  on  the  seats,  and 
each  man  picks  one  up  as  he  sits  down,  and  patiently  waits  for 
hours.  At  seven  o'clock  our  own  workers  carry  the  big  coffee- 
pots among  the  audience,  and  laugh  for  joy  as  they  see  the 
look  on  some  of  the  faces.  The  men  begin  to  pile  in  by  three 
o'clock  on  Saturday  afternoon,  though  our  service  does  not 
begin  till  half -past  seven.  Time  is  of  no  account  with  them, 
you  know,  and  the  room  is  packed  full  in  half  an  hour. 
We  are  often  obliged  to  lock  the  doors  and  turn  the  rest  away. 
Many  have  nowhere  else  to  go.  After  lunch  we  have  a  service 
of  song,  followed  by  an  experience  meeting,  lasting  till  half- 
past  nine,  when  the  men  depart.  Most  of  them  sleep  in  cheap 
lodging-rooms  or  police  station-houses,  though  some  walk  the 
streets  all  night.  On  several  cold  nights  this  winter  we  let 
some  of  them  sleep  on  the  floor  of  the  Mission  room  all  night. 
Coffee  night  is  one  of  our  institutions,  and  always  draws  a  big 
crowd,  though  generally  a  pretty  tough  one. 

No  matter  how  dirty,  how  vicious,  how  depraved  a  man 
may  he,  he  will  find  a  welcome  here.  We  will  take  him  down 
staii's  and  wash  him.  If  he  is  sick  we  will  have  a  doctor 
for  him,  or  get  him  into  a  hospital,  and  we  won't  lose  sight  of 

6 


CHAPTEK  III. 


UP  SLAUGHTER  ALLEY,  OR  LIFE  IN  A  TENEMENT-HOUSE-  A 
TOUR  THROUGH  HOMES  OF  .MISERY,  WANT,  AND  WOE 
—  DRINK'S  DOINGS. 

Why  Called  Slaughter  Alley  —  Kicking  a  Missionary  Downstairs  — Life  and 
Scenes  in  Tenement-Houses  —  Voices  and  Shapes  in  the  Darkness.— My 
Tour  with  the  Doctor  — Picking  our  Way  through  Slime  and  Filth  — 
''Mammy's  Lookin'  for  You  "  —  "  Murtherin'  Dinnis  "  —  Misery  and 
Squalor  Side  by  Side  —  Stalwart  Tim  — In  the  Presence  of  Death  — "I 
Want  to  go,  but  I'm  Willin'  to  Wait "  —  Patsy  —  A  Five-Year-Old 
Washerwoman — Sickening  Odors  —  Human  Beasts —  Dangerous  Places 

—  "Mike  Gim'me  a  Dollar  for  the  Childer  "  —  The  Charity  of  the  Poor 

—  "Oh,  Wurra,  me  Heart's  Sick  in  me"  —  Homes  Swarming  with 
Rats  — Alive  with  Vermin  and  Saturated  with  Filth— The  Omnipresent 
Saloon  — A  Nursery  of  Criminals  and  Drunkards  —  The  Terrible  Influ- 
ence of  Drink  —  Conceived  in  Sin  and  Born  in  Iniquity — The  Dreadful 
Tenement-House  System. 

AX  THY  "Slaughter"  Alley,  who  shall  say,  since  among  its 


V  V  inhabitants  not  one  can  tell.  No  map  of  New  York 
holds  the  name,  but  from  the  fact  that  one  of  the  oldest  inhab- 
itants reports  that  it  was  once  Butcher  Alley  one  may  conclude 
two  things:  either  that  more  than  one  murder  done  at  this 
point  has  given  it  right  to  the  name,  or  that  it  has  arisen  from 
the  slaughter  of  the  innocents,  —  the  babies,  who  die  here 
in  summer  like  rats  in  a  hole.  And  in  the  old  days,  when  this 
whole  seething,  turbulent  spot  was  quiet  meadows  sloping  to 
the  East  River,  there  may  have  been,  as  vague  tradition  in- 
dicates, an  actual  slaughter-house,  cleaner,  we  will  warrant, 
than  any  successor  found  to-day. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  name  lias  established  its  right  to  per- 
manence, and  the  alley  shall  make  its  revelation  of  what  one 
form  of  New  York  tenement-house  has  for  its  occupants. 

To  one  familiar  with  the  story  of  old  New  York,  Roose 


(89) 


PB  ^1  [NG  fob  death. 


95 


savoriness.  In  the  back  room  three  lads,  also  asleep,  lay  across 
a  bed,  and  on  the  floor  was  stretched  a  woman,  her  sodden 
face,  with  a  great  bruise  over  one  eye,  indicating  what  kind  of 
orgie  had  been  held  there.    The  doctor  closed  the  door. 

At  the  top  of  the  house  we  entered  a  low  and  narrow  room 
under  the  eaves;  the  bed  was  pushed  as  far  as  it  would  go 
against  the  sloping  wall;  a  chair  or  two,  a  small  table,  and  a 
tiny  cooking-stove,  over  which  a  man  bent  stirring  something 
in  a  saucepan,  made  up  the  furniture  of  the  room.  So  deadly 
and  heavy  was  the  smell,  as  the  door  opened,  that  a  mighty 
effort  was  necessary  before  I  could  enter  at  all. 

"She's  a  grain  easier,  hut  only  a  grain,"  said  the  man,  com- 
ing forward  and  addressing  the  doctor.  "She's  been  prayin5 
to  be  released,  if  it's  the  Lord's  will,  an'  I've  come  to  be  willin'. 
Look  at  her." 

The  bandages  had  been  removed,  and  I  saw  a  painful  sight ; 
cancer  of  the  face  and  head;  yet  life  enough  in  the  poor  lips  to 
smile  in  the  doctor's  face. 

"I'm  most  through,  ain't  I?"  she  whispered.  "  O,  I 
hope  so;  I  want  to  go,  but  I'm  willin'  to  wait." 

"  Yes.  you  are  almost  through,''  answered  the  kind  voice  of 
the  doctor.    kk  You  have  only  a  day  or  two  longer." 

The  man  knelt  by  the  bed,  shaking  with  sobs,  and  the  doc- 
tor prayed  for  release,  for  patience  and  strength  to  bear  what- 
ever pain  must  still  be  borne. 

"  That  does  me  good,"  the  dying  woman  whispered.  "  Come 
to-morrow  an'  every  day  till  I'm  gone." 

With  a  pressure  of  the  wasted  hand  we  hurried  down  the 
stairs. 

"I  thought  vou  would  faint."  the  doctor  said,  as  we  reached 
the  street  and  the  wind  blew  up  cool  from  the  river.  ki  Stand 
still  a  minute.    You're  trembling." 

"Why  does  not  such  a  case  as  that  go  to  the  hospital?"  I 
asked,  when  the  fresh  air  had  brought  back  color  and  voice. 
"She  could  at  least  have  decent  comfort  there." 

"We  wanted  her  to.  but  her  husband  wouldn't  hear  to  it. 
He  wanted  to  be  near  the  Mission,  and  so  did  she,  and  she  said 


OLD  TENEMENT  ROOKERIES. 


103 


of  facetiousness  might  not  rouse  the  public  to  some  sense  of 
what  lies  below  the  surface  of  this  fair-seeming  civilization  of 
to-day. 

An  extreme  case  ?  If  it  only  were,  —  but  these  are  tene- 
ments built  within  a  comparatively  recent  period,  and  thus 
nominally  more  comfortable  than  older  dwellings.  The  older 
buildings  still  show  their  dormer  windows  here  and  there,  and 


back  almost  to  the  floor,  and  but  one  window  to  the  room.  Yet 
they  swarm  no  less  than  the  newer  ones,  with  the  added  disad- 
vantage that  the  ancient  timbers  and  woodwork  are  alive  with 
vermin  and  saturated  with  all  foulness  beyond  even  the  possi- 
bilities of  brick.  The  older  tenements  are  battered  and  worn- 
Looking,  so  hideously  massed  together  in  places  as  to  be  with- 
out yards,  or  huddled  together  like  styes  among  stables,  facto- 
ries, and  vile-smelling  outhouses.  Rows  of  dirty  houses  are 
crowded  on  the  narrow  sidewalk,  with  still  more  forlorn  rear 
tenements  crowding  behind  them. 

7 


CHAPTER  IV 


NEW  YORK  NEWSBOYS— WHO  THEY  ARE,  WHERE  TITEY  COME 
FROM,  AND  HOW  THEY  LIVE  — THE  WAIFS  AND  STRAYS 
OF  A  GREAT  CITY. 

The  Newsboys'  Code  of  Morals  — Curious  Beds  for  Cold  Winters'  Nights  — 
Shivering  Urchins  — Sleeping  in  a  Burned-out  Safe  —  Creeping  into  Door- 
ways—The Street  Arab  and  the  Gutter-Snipe  —  A  Curious  Mixture  of 
Morality  and  Vice  —  His  Religion  —  "Kind  o'  Lucky  to  say  a  Prayer'' 

—  Newsboys'  Lodging-Houses  — First  Night  in  a  Soft  Bed  — Favorite 
Songs  — Trying  Times  in  "Boys'  Meetings "  —  Opening  the  Savings  Bank 

—  The  "  Doodes  " —  Pork  and  Beans  —  Popular  Nicknames  —  Teaching 
Self  Help  —  Western  Homes  for  New  York's  Waifs — "  Wanted,  a  Perfect 
Boy"— How  a  Street  Arab  Went  to  Yale  College  —  Newsboy  Orators  — 
A  Loud  Call  for  "Paddy" — "  Bummers,  Snoozers,  and  Citizens"  —  Speci- 
mens of  Wit  and  Humor — "Jack  de  Robber"  —  The  "Kid" — "Ain't 
Got  no  Mammy"  —  A  Life  of  Hardship  —  Giving  the  Boys  a  Chance. 

HOW  shall  one  condense  into  one  chapter  the  story  of  an 
army  of  newsboys  in  which  each  individual  represents  a 
case  not  only  of  "  survival  of  the  fittest,"  but  of  an  experience 
that  would  fill  a  volume?  They  are  the  growth  of  but  a  gen- 
eration or  two,  since  only  the  modern  newspaper  and  its  needs 
could  require  the  services  of  this  numberless  host.  Out  of  the 
thousands  of  homeless  children  roaming  the  streets  as  lawless 
as  the  wind,  only  those  with  some  sense  of  honor  could  be 
chosen,  yet  what  honor  could  be  found  in  boys  born  in  the 
slums  and  knowing  vice  as  a  close  companion  from  babyhood 
up  \ 

This  question  answered  itself  long  ago,  as  many  a  social 

problem  has  done.    The  fact  that  no  papers  could  be  had  by 

them  save  as  paid  for  on  the  spot,  and  that  a  certain  code  of 

morals  was  the  first  necessity  for  any  work  at  all,  developed 

such  conscience  as  lav  iti  embryo,  and  brought  about  the  tacitly 

understood  rules  that  have  long  governed  the  small  heathen 

(in) 


HOW  THE  BOYS  LIVE  IN  THEIR  HOME. 


123 


ponds  with  the  number  of  the  locker  in  which  he  keeps  his 
clothes.  When  he  is  ready  to  retire  he  applies  to  the  superin- 
tendent's assistant,  who  sits  beside  the  keyboard.  The  lodger 
gives  his  number  and  is  handed  the  key  of  his  locker,  in  which 
he  bestows  all  his  clothing  but  his  shirt  and  trousers.  He 
then  mounts  to  the  dormitory,  and  after  carefully  secreting  his 
shirt  and  trousers  under  his  mattress  is  ready  for  the  sleep  of 
childhood. 


BOYS  APPLYING  TO  THE  SUPERINTENDENT  FOR  A  NIGHTS  LODGING. 


The  boys  are  wakened  at  different  hours.  Some  of  them 
rise  as  early  as  two  o'clock  and  go  down  town  to  the  news- 
paper offices  for  their  stock  in  trade.  Others  rise  between 
that  hour  and  five  o'clock.  All  hands,  however,  are  routed 
out  at  seven.  The  boys  may  enjoy  instruction  in  the  rudi- 
mentary branches  every  night  from  half -past  seven  until  nine 
o'clock,  with  the  exception  of  Sundays,  when  devotional  ser- 
vices are  held  and  addresses  made  by  well-known  citizens. 

A  large  majority  of  the  boys  who  frequent  the  lodging- 
houses  are  waifs  pure  and  simple.  They  have  never  known 
a  mother's  or  a  father's  care,  and  have  no  sense  of  identity. 
Generally  they  have  no  name,  or  if  they  ever  had  one  have 
preferred  to  convert  it  into  something  short  and  practically 


NEWSBOYS'  NICKNAMES  AM)  THEIR  MEANING. 


descriptive.    As  a  rule  they  are  known  by  nicknames  and 
nothing  else,  and  in  speaking  of  one  another  they  generally 
do  so  by  these  names.     As  a  rule  these  names  indicate  some 
personal  peculiarity  or  characteristic.    On  a  recent  visit  to  a 
Newsboys'  Lodging  House  pains  were  taken  to  learn  the 
names  of  a  group  of  boys  who  were  holding  an  animated 
conversation.    It  was  a  representative  group.    A  very  thin 
little  fellow  was  called  "Skinny";   another  hoy  with  light 
hair  and  complexion,  being  nearly  as  blonde  as  an  albino,  was 
known  only  as  "Whitey."    When  "Slobbery  Jack"  was  asked 
how  he  came  by  his  name,  "Bumlets,"  who  appeared  to  he 
chief  spokesman  of  the  party,  exclaimed,  "When  he  eats  he 
scatters  all  down  hisself."    "  Yaller"  was  the  name  given  to  an 
Italian  boy  of  soft  brown  complexion.    Near  him  stood  "Kelly 
the  Rake,"  who  owned  but  one  sleeve  to  his  jacket.    In  news- 
boy parlance  a  "rake"  is  a  boy  who  will  appropriate  to  his 
own  use  anything  he  can  lay  his  hands  on.     No  one  could 
give  an  explanation  of  "Snoddy's"  name  nor  what  it  meant, — 
it  was  a  thorough  mystery  to  even  the  savants  in  newsboy 
parlance.    In  the  crowd  was  "The  Snitcher,"  —  "a  fellow 
w'at  tattles,"  said  Bumlets,  contemptuously,  and  near  by  stood 
the  "  Xing  of  Crapshooters."    "  A  crapshooter,"  said  Bumlets, 
"is  a  fellow  w'ats  fond  of  playin'  toss-penny,  throwin'  dice,  an' 
goin'  to  policy  shops.''    The  "King  of  Bums"  was  a  tall  and 
rather  good-looking  lad,  who,  no  doubt,  had  come  honestly 
by  his  name.    The  ■" Snipe-Shooter"  was  guilty  of  smoking 
cigar-stubs  picked  out  of  the  gutter,  a  habit  known  among 
the  boys  as  "snipe-shooting."    "Hoppy,"  a  little  lame  boy; 
"Dutchy,"  a  German  lad;  "Smoke,"  a  colored  boy;  "Pie- 
eater,"  a  boy  very  fond  of  pie;  "Sheeney,"  "Skittery,"  "Bag 
of  Bones,"  "One  Lung  Pete,"  and  "Scotty"  were  in  the  same 
group;  and  so  also  was  '-Jake  the  Oyster,"  a  tender-hearted 
boy  who  was  spoken  of  by  the  others  as  "a  regTar  soft 
puddin'." 

Every  boy  shown  in  the  Pull-page  illustration  was  proud  of 
the  fact  that  he  "carried  the  banner,"  i.  e.,  was  in  the  habit  of 
sleeping  out  doors  at  night.    Only  the  bitterest  cold  of  winter 


MAKING  LIQUOR  PAY  FOR  ITS  FRUIT. 


12? 


drove  them  to  seek  the  shelter  and  warmth  of  the  lodging 
house.  An  empty  barrel  or  dry  goods  box  ;  deserted  hallways, 
dark  alleys,  or  the  rear  of  buildings  were  the  only  sleeping- 
places  these  boys  had  at  night  from  early  spring  to  mid-winter. 

The  sixty  thousand  dollars  required  for  fitting  up  the 
building  was  raised  in  part  by  private  subscription  and  in  part 
by  an  appropriation  of  thirty  thousand  dollars  from  the  Excise 
fund,  by  the 
Legislature,  it 
being  regard - 
ed  as  just 
that  those 
who  do  most 
to  form 
d  r  unkards 
should  b e 
forced  to  aid 
in  the  ex- 
pense of  the 
care  of 
drun  k  ards' 
children. 
This  fund 
grew  slowly, 
but  by  good 
investment 
was  increased 

to  eighty  thousand  dollars,  and  with  this  the  permanent  home 
of  the  newsboys  in  this  part  of  the  city  has  been  assured.  It 
is  their  school,  church,  intelligence-office,  and  hotel. 

Here  the  homeless  street  boy,  instead  of  drifting  into 
thieves1  dens  and  the  haunts  of  criminals  and  roughs,  is 
brought  into  a  clean,  healthy,  well  warmed  and  lighted  build- 
ing where  he  finds  room  for  amusement,  instruction,  and 
religious  training,  and  where  good  meals,  a  comfortable  bed, 
and  plenty  of  washing  and  bathing  conveniences  are  furnished 
at  a  low  price.    The  boy  is  not  pauperized,  but  feels  that  he  is 


THE  WASH-ROOM  IX  THE  NEWS- 
BOYS' LODGING  HOUSE  JUST 
BEFORE  SUPPER  TIME. 


DETECTING  A  X  [MPOSTOR.  129 

a  neatly-sewed  patch,  and  noted  that  his  naked  feet  were 
too  white  for  a  "  bummer."    He  took  him  to  the  inner  office. 
"  My  boy  !    Where  do  you  live?    Where's  your  father 
"Please,  sir,   I   don't  live  nowhere,  an'   I  hain't  got  no 
father,  an'  me  mither's  dead!"    Then  followed  a  long  and 
touching  story  of  his  orphanage,  the   tears   Mowing  down 
his  cheeks.    The  bystanders  were  almost  melted  themselves. 
Not  so  the  Superintendent.   Grasping  the  boy  by  the  shoulder, 
"Where's  your  mother,  I  say  2" 


"Where  is  your  mother,  I  say?  Where  do  you  live?  I 
give  you  just  three  minutes  to  tell,  and  then,  if  you  do  not,  I 
shall  hand  you  over  to  the  police." 

The  lad  yielded,  his  true  story  was  told,  and  a  runaway  re- 
stored to  his  family. 

An  average  of  three  thousand  a  year  is  sent  to  the  West, 
many  of  whom  are  formally  adopted.  A  volume  would  not 
suffice  for  the  letters  that  come  back,  or  the  strange  experi- 
ences of  many  a  boy  who  under  the  new  influences  grows  into 


132 


A  LOUD  CALL  FOR  PADDY. 


"Paddy,  Paddy!"  they  shouted.  "Come  out,  Paddy,  air 
show  yerself." 

Paddy  came  forward  and  mounted  a  stool ;  a  youngster  not 
more  than  twelve,  with  little  round  eyes,  a  short  nose  profusely 
freckled,  and  a  lithe  form  full  of  fun. 

"Bummers,"  he  began,  "  Snoozers,  and  citizens,  I've  come 
down  here  among  yer  to  talk  to  yer  a  little.    Me  an'  me  friend 


THE  GYMNASIUM  EN  THE  NEWSBOYS'   LODGING— HOUSE. 


Brace  have  come  to  see  how  ye're  gittin'  along  an'  to  advise 
yer.  You  fellers  w'at  stands  at  the  shops  with  yer  noses  over 
the  railin',  a  smellin'  of  the  roast  beef  an'  hash,  —  you  fellers 
who's  got  no  home,  —  think  of  it,  how  are  we  to  encourage 
yer.  [Derisive  laughter,  and  various  ironical  kinds  of  ap- 
plause.] I  say  bummers,  for  ye're  all  bummers,  [in  a  tone  of 
kind  patronage,]  I  was  a  bummer  once  meself.  [Great  laugh- 
ter.] I  hate  to  see  yer  spending  yer  money  for  penny  ice- 
creams an'  had  cigars.  Why  don't  yer  save  yer  money  \  You 
feller  without  no  boots  over  there,  how  would  you  like  a  new 
pair,  eh  \  [Laughter  from  all  the  boys  but  the  one  addressed.] 
Well,  I  hope  you  may  get  'em.  Rayther  think  you  won't.  I 
have  hopes  for  yer  all.    I  want  yer  to  grow  up  to  be  rich  men, 


134 


places  of  im:r<;e  von  stkkkt  boyS. 


soon.  I  thank  ye,  boys,  for  yer  patient  attintion.  I  can't 
say  no  more  al  present,  hoys.    Good  bye." 

The  newsboys' lodging-houses  are  like  the  ancient  cities  of 
refuge  to  these  little  fellows,  and  vet  there  are  cases  which 
the  Lodging-houses  never  reach. 


"Recently/'  said  a  gentleman,  "  I  found  a  tiny  fellow  play- 
ing a  solitary  game  of  marbles  in  a  remote  corner  of  the  City 
I  hill  corridors.  I  lis  little  legs  were  very  thin,  and  dark  circles 
under  his  big  gray  eyes  intensified  the  chalk-like  pallor  of  his 
checks.  He  Looked  up  when  he  became  aware  thai  some  one 
was  watching  him,  but  resumed  his  game  of  solitaire  as  soon 
as  he  saw  he  had  nothing  to  fear  from  the  intruder. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  my  Little  fellow  ?"  I  asked. 

The  mite  hastily  gathered  up  all  his  marbles  and  stowed 


136  DIFFICULT  CASES  TO  REACH. 

"  Dat  ere  kid,"  he  resumed,  "  ain't  got  no  more  sand'n  a 
John  Chinee.  He'd  be  kilt  ony  fur  me.  He  can't  come  along 
de  Row  or  up  de  alley  widout  gitin'  his  face  broke.  So  I  gives 
him  papers  to  sell  and  looks  arter  him  meself." 

I  asked  Jack  where  the  "  Kid "  and  himself  slept.  "I  ain't 
givin'  dat  away,"  said  he,  uony  taint  no  lodgin'-house  where 
you  has  to  git  up  early  in  the  mawnin'.  De  '  Kid'  and  me 
likes  to  sleep  late." 


The  "  Kid,"  however,  was  now  eager  to  be  off  with  his 
papers,  and  without  another  word  the  protector  and  protege 
sped  into  the  street,  filling  the  air  with  their  shrill  cries. 

This  is  one  case  of  a  class  which  the  lodging-houses  do  not 
reach,  and  other  instances  might  be  given.  One  little  fellow 
of  six  years  makes  a  practice  of  frequenting  the  lobby  of 
one  of  the  big  hotels  after  dark.  As  soon  as  the  streets  become 
deserted,  and  the  market  for  his  papers  ceases  to  flourish,  he 


14:2  DANGEROUS  AND  DEADLY  TRADES. 

of  gold-leaf  a  good  many  are  employed,  though  chiefly  young 
girls  of  fifteen  and  upwards.  It  is  one  of  the  most  exhausting 
of  the  trades,  as  no  air  can  be  admitted,  and  the  atmosphere  is 
stifling. 

Feathers,  flowers,  and  tobacco  employ  the  greatest  number. 
A  child  of  six  can  strip  tobacco  or  cut  feathers.  In  one  greal 
firm,  employing  over  a  thousand  men,  women,  and  children,  a 


TIRED  OUT.  —  A  FACTORY  GIRl/S  ROOM  IN  A  TENEMENT-HOUSE. 


woman  of  eighty  and  her  grandchild  of  four  sit  side  by  side 
and  strip  the  leaves,  and  the  faces  of  the  pair  were  sketched 
not  long  since  by  a  popular  artist.  With  the  exception  of 
match-making  and  one  or  two  otlier  industries  there  is  hardly 
a  trade  so  deadly  in  its  effects.  There  are  many  operations 
which  children  are  competent  to  carry  on,  and  the  phases  of 
work  done  at  home  in  the  tenement-houses  often  employ  the 
entire  family.  In  cellars  and  basements  boys  of  ten  and  twelve 
brine,  sweeten,  and  prepare  the  tobacco  preliminary  to  stem- 


a  physician's  testimony. 


147 


that  child  has,  an'  she  but  a  little  past  ten.  May  there  be  a  hot 
place  waitin'  for  him ! " 

From  the  notes  of  a  physician  whose  name  is  a  guarantee 
of  accurate  and  faithful  observation,  and  whose  work  is  in 
connection  with  the  Board  of  Health,  I  have  a  series  of  facts, 
the  result  of  eighteen  months'  work.  During  this  period  of 
daily  observation  in  tenement-house  work,  she  found  among 
the  people  with  whom  she  came  in  contact  535  children  under 
twelve  years  old,  most  of  them  between  ten  and  twelve,  who 
either  worked  in  shops  or  stores  or  helped  their  mothers  in 


In  one  family  a  child  of  three  years  old  had  infantile  paralysis 
easily  curable.  The  mother  had  no  time  to  attend  to  it.  At 
live  vears  old  the  child  was  taught  to  sew  buttons  on  trousers. 
She  is  now,  at  thirteen  years,  a  helpless  cripple,  but  she  fin- 
ishes a  dozen  pairs  of  trousers  a  day,  and  the  family  are  thus 
twenty  cents  the  richer.  In  another  family  she  found  twin 
girls  four  and  a  half  years  old.  sewing  on  buttons  from  six 
in  the  morning  till  ten  at  night;  and  near  them  a  family  of 


some  kind  of  work  at 
home.  Of  these  535  chil- 
dren but  60  were  health  v. 


CHAPTER  71. 


CHILD-LIFE  IN  THE  SLUMS  —  HOMELESS  STREET  BOYS,  GUTTFli 
SNIPES  AND  DOCK  RATS  —  THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  A  DAY- 
BREAK BOY. 

Gutter-Snipes  — Imps  of  Darkness  — Snoopers  — Bm.o-s  and  Tatters  — Life  in 
the  Gutter— Old  Sol  — Running  a  Grocery  under  Difficulties  —  Youthful 
Criminals  — Newsboys  and  Bootblacks— Candidates  for  Crime— "He's 
Smart,  He  Is"  — "It's  Business  Folks  as  Cheats "— Dock  Rats  —  Unre- 
claimed Children  —  Thieves'  Lodging-Houses  —  Poverty  Lane  —  Hell's 
Kitchen  — Dangers  of  a  Street  Girl's  Life  — old  Margaret  —The  Reforma- 
tion of  Wildfire  —  The  Queen  of  Cherry  Street  —  Sleeping  on  the  Docks  — 
Too  Much  Liekin'  and  More  in  Prospect — A  Street  Arab's  Summer  Resi- 
dence—  A  Walking  Rag-Bundle  —  Getting  Larruped  —  A  Daybreak  Boy 
—  Jack's  Story  of  his  Life  —  Buckshot  Taylor  —  A  Thieves' Run-way  — 
Escaping  over  Roofs  —  A  Police  Raid  —  Head-first  off  the  Roof  —  Death  of 
Jack  —  His  Dying  Request  —  An  Affecting  Scene  —  Fifteen  Thousand 
Homeless  Children. 

UTTER-SNIPES!  That's  what  I  call  'em.  What  else 
VJ  could  they  be  when  they're  in  the  gutter  all  day  and 
half  the  night,  cuttin'  round  like  little  imps  o'  darkness.  Not 
much  hair  on  'em  either  —  not  enough  to  catch  by,  and  clothes 
as  is  mostly  rags  that  tears  if  you  grab  'em.  The  prison  barber 
wouldn't  get  any  profit  out  of  'em,  I  can  tell  you.  Men  around 
here  don't  shave  till  their  beards  stick  out  like  spikes,  and  the 
women  cut  the  children's  hair  to  save  combin'.  Gutter-snipes. 
That's  it,  and  they  snoop  around  stores  and  slink  off  a  salt  (isli 
or  a  handle  of  wood  or  anything  as  comes  handy,  and  home 
with  it  like  the  wind.  Mother  is  there,  you  may  be  sure,  and 
washin'  may  he.  Do  you  suppose  she  asks  any  questions  like, 
'  Lor,  Hilly,  where  did  you  get  that?'  Not  she.  She  takes  the 
fish,  or  whatever  it  is,  as  innocent  as  a  lamb  and  sends  Hilly  for 
some  hits  o'  coal  to  cook  it. 

"  Yes,  that's  the  way  it  is  down  here.     Rags  and  tatters  are 

(149) 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SLUMS. 


151 


memorial  mud-pie,  or  they  play  with  such  pieces  of  string  or 
paper  as  may  have  been  deposited  there.  A  gay  bit  of  cloth, 
a  rejected  paper-box,  is  a  mine  of  enjoyment;  but  it  is  the 
other  children  and  a  consideration  of  their  ways  that  most 
fascinates  the  baby,  whose  eyes  still  hold  baby  innocence,  too 


A  GROUP  OF  STREET  BOYS,  AS  FOUND  ON  DOYERS  STREET. 


on  all  of  them  is  the  look  of  experience,  of  cunning,  or  a 
self-reliance  born  of  constant  knocking  about.  When  eiffht  or 
ten  years  old  such  care  as  may  occasionally  have  been  their 
portion  ceases.  They  must  begin  to  earn,  and  are  allowed  the 
utmost  freedom  of  choice. 

The  most  energetic  and  best  endowed  by  nature  turn  to 
the  newsboys'  calling  and  often  find  it  the  way  to  their  first 
fragments  of  education,  as  well  as  to  the  comfort  learned  in 
the  Newsboys'  Lodging  ! louses.     Next  conies  bootblacking, 


JACK   TKLKS  THE  STORY   OF   HIS  LIKE. 


whatever  there  was  to  Lay  his  hands  on,  down  to  the  teapot. 
So  his  aunt  took  Dick,  an'  he  slep' along  with  the  other  lodgers, 
an'  had  what  he  could  pick  up  to  cat  unless  she  happened  to 
think,  an'  then  she  let  him  buy  pie. 

That  was  Dick,bu1  he  turned  into  the  Buster,  an' that's  what 
Til  call  him  now.  so  you'll  know.  My  father  was  a  ragpicker 
on  Baxter  Street,  an'  our  house  was  47;  do  you  know  it  ( 
When  you  go  in  there's  a  court  an'  a  hydrant  in  the  middle,  an' 
out  o'  that  court  opens  seven  doors  as  like  as  seven  peas,  an' 
there's  seven  rooms  with  the  window  alongside  o'  the  door,  an' 
so  on  all  the  way  up  the  five  stories.  It's  all  Eyetalian  now. 
an'  they've  got  big-  Eyetalian  beds  that  hols  six  or  seven  easy, 
an'  over  them  they  slings  hammocks  an'  piles  the  children  in. 
an'  then  fills  up  the  floor,  an'  so  they  make  their  rent  an'  may 
be  more. 

We  wasn't  so  thick,  and  lucky,  for  my  father  wanted  room 
to  tear  round  when  he  stopped  pickin'  rags  an'  had  a  drunk. 
He'd  smash  everything  he  could  reach,  an'  my  mother,  who  was 
little  an'  kind  o'  delicate  like,  she'd  hang  everything  high,  so's 
he  couldn't  get  at  it.  He  knocked  her  round  awful,  an'  one 
night,  when  he  come  home  a  little  worse  than  any  one  ever 
seed  him,  he  just  kicked  us  both  downstairs  an'  broke  her  all  to 
smash,  ribs  an'  everything;  an'  then  when  he'd  smashed  up  the 
room  too,  he  just  sat  down  an'  cut  his  own  throat  awful,  so 
when  they  come  to  arrest  him  on  account  o'  my  mother  that 
they  had  picked  up  an'  sent  to  Bellevue,  there  wasn't  nothin1  to 
get  but  a  stiff.* 

I  hung  round  a  bit  till  I  saw  the  ambulance,  an'  then  I  made 
sure  they'd  do  somethin'  awful  with  me.  an'  I  cut.  I  made  a 
run  for  the  river,  because  I  alius  liked  it  along  the  docks.  You 
could  often  pick  up  oranges  an'  bananas,  an'  many  a  time  I've 
licked  molasses  off  the  barrels.  I'd  often  slep  before  in  barges 
an'  most  anywhere,  an'  so  I  knew  a  good  place  where  there  was 
most  always  some  bales  o'  hay,  an'  so  T  put  for  that.  There 
was  lots  o'  boxes  an*  barrels  piled  up,  an'  empty  ones  too;  an' 


A  corpse. 


JACK  FALLS  IN  WITH  LITTLE  "  BUSTER. 


163 


way  behind  'em,  where  they  hadn't  looked  for  a  good  while, 
was  some  big  bales  o'  hay. 

It  was  rainin',  peltin'  straight  down,  an'  sleet  with  it,  an' 
awful  cold.  I  remember  because  Buster  cried  awful  when  I 
found  him.  He  wasn't  bigger'n  a  rat  much,  an'  when  I  come 
pitchin'  along  he  made  certain  I  was  goin'  to  turn  him  out. 
There  he  was,  you  see,  in  my  box, 
that  I  hadn't  never  let  on  about,  an' 
he  just  snivel- 
ed an'  turned 
out  an'  started 
to  run.  So  I 
took  him  by 
the  scruff  an'  I 
says,  "Where 
you  goin',  an' 
who  are  you?" 
an'  drew  him 
back  by  one  o' 
the  legs  o'  his 
pants,  that  was 

.    _  STREET  BOYS  SLEEPING  ON  THE  DOCKS. 

big  enough  tor 

six  like  him,  an'  then  he  told  me.  He'd  had  so  much  lickin' 
at  home  that  he  couldn't  stand  up  straight,  an'  his  aunt  wanted 
to  lick  him  more  because  he  couldn't,  an'  so  he  made  up  his 
mind  to  run.  Well,  he'd  slep'  in  that  box  a  good  while,  an' 
the  boys  had  fed  him.  He'd  earned  bits  holdin'  a  horse  or 
something  like  that,  an'  he'd  picked  up  odds  an'  ends;  but  he 
Avas  most  naked  an'  hungry,  an'  when  he  dried  up  his  eyes 
after  a  good  cry,  I  says  to  him,  kk  We'll  go  hunks,  an'  whatever 
I  have  you  shall  have  the  same." 

That's  the  way  Buster  an'  me  come  to  be  pardners,  but  I  ex- 
pect we  was  both  smaller  than  we  thought  we  was,  for  we 
couldn't  get  much  to  do  till  a  boy  gave  me  his  old  blackin'  kit 
an'  taught  me  to  shine.  So  I  did  that  when  I  got  a  chance,  an' 
Buster  sat  round  an'  admired,  an'  we  did  fust-rate  an'  slep  in 
the  box  the  whole  winter. 


A  FATAL  BLOW. 


107 


the  two.  Cherry  an' Hamilton  Streets  back  up  together,  an' 
there's  only  three  Peel  between  'em  at  the  rear  tenements. 
Now  if  you're  chased  on  Cherry  Street,  all  you've  gol  to  do  is 
to  run  up  to  the  roof  of  the  rear  house  an'  jump  to  the  other, 
go  down  the  skylight,  an'  there  von  are  in  Hamilton  Street  an' 
can  get  off  easy,  while  the  policeman  is  comin'  round  the 
corner.  The  crooks  have  fixed  it  to  suit  themselves.  They  go 
climbin'  round  over  roofs  an'  fences  till  they've  got  it  plain  as 
a  map.  Sometimes  they  hammer  in  blocks  of  wood  for  steps 
an'  they  don't  come  out  where  the  cops  are  expectin'  'em. 
There's  a  hundred  run-ways,  an'  they  knows  'em  all. 

1  was  awful  worried  over  Buster.  I  know'd  if  he  could  only 
gel  away  he'd  do  well  enough,  an'  I  planned  to  hire  him  to  go 
West  an'  try  it,  They'd  dyed  his  hair  an'  made  him  all  up  dif- 
ferent ;  but  I  knew  where  he  hung  out,  an'  so  a  week  ago  I  went 
in  one  night,  bound  to  find  him.  The  police  had  laid  for  a  raid 
that  night,  but  I  nor  nobody  knew  it.  Buster  was  there,  sure 
enough,  an'  he  was  way  down  in  the  mouth.  We  talked  awhile, 
an'  he  had  about  promised  me  he'd  do  as  I  wanted  when  the 
woman  in  the  next  room  gave  the  alarm. 

I  don't  know  how  Buster  ever  took  such  a  thing  in  his  head, 
but  he  did.  He  made  for  the  roof,  an'  I  after  him,  an'  just  as 
we  got  there  he  drew  on  me.  "You  meant  to  give  me  away, 
did  you  ? "  says  he.  kk  D — n  you  !  Take  that  !  "  an'  he  gave  it 
to  me  in  the  side.  I  pitched  over,  an'  down  I  went  into  the 
run- way,  an'  there  they  picked  me  up  an'  brought  me  here. 
He  didn't  mean  it,  an'  he  got  away,  an'  so  I  don't  care,  an'  he 
sent  me  word  the  other  day  that  when  I  got  well  he'd  go  West 
or  anywhere  I  wanted.  So  you  see  it's  come  out  pretty  good 
after  all.  an'  T  don't  mind  lyin'  here  because  I  go  over  it  all  in 
my  mind  an'  it's  good  as  the  the-a-ter  to  think  they  haven't  got 
him  an'  won't.    An'  when  1  get  well,  

Jack's  voice  had  grown  steadily  weaker.  "  I'm  so  tired," 
he  went  on.  "I  think  Vm  goin'  to  sleep.  If" — and  here  he 
looked  up  silently  for  a  moment;  "If  I  ain't  goin'  to  get  well, 
Buster'll  go  to  the  bad  certain,  for  there  ain't  nobody  but  me 


168 


DEATH  OF  JACK. 


he'll  listen  to.  But  I  shall  get  well  soon,  an'  now  I'll  have  a 
sleep  an'  thank  you  for  comin '." 

"  Will  he  get  well '( "  I  whispered  to  the  nurse  as  we  went 
down  the  ward. 

"  At  first  we  thought  he  would,"  she  made  answer.  "  Now 
it  is  doubtful,  for  there  is  something  wrong  internally.  He 
may  live  and  he  may  go  at  any  time,"  and  she  turned  away  to 
another  patient. 

A  week  later  came  this  note  from  the  nurse  :  — 

"Jack  asked  to  have  you  sent  for  yesterday,  and  when  we  said  you  were 
out  of  town  he  begged  for  pencil  and  paper  and  made  me  promise  to  seal 
his  note  up  at  once  and  let  no  one  see  it.  It  is  inclosed  herein,  just  as  he 
dropped  it  when  the  end  came.  We  found  him  lying  there  quite  dead,  and 
you  will  see  a  smile  bright  as  an  angel's  on  his  beautiful  face  when  you  come, 
which  must  be  at  once  if  you  want  to  see  him  before  he  is  buried." 

On  the  scrap  of  paper  within  he  had  traced  in  staggering 
letters, 

"  Plese  find  Buster  at  ." 

There  it  ended,  nor  has  any  questioning  yet  revealed  who  it 
was  for  whom  he  sold  his  life, —  unwittingly,  it  is  true,  but 
given  no  less  fully  and  freely. 

"  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay  down 
his  life  for  his  friend." 

No  work  in  the  great  city  so  appeals  to  all  that  is  just,  all 
that  is  generous  in  man,  as  the  Avelfare  of  these  street  children, 
and  none  yields  larger  reward.  And  yet  the  final  word  must  be 
that  fifteen  thousand  homeless,  hungry,  cold,  and  naked  child- 
ren wander  to-day  in  our  streets,  and  as  yet  no  agency  has 
been  found  that  meets  their  need,  and  the  hands  that  would 
rescue  are  powerless.  The  city  money  jingles  in  Tammany 
pockets,  and  the  taxpayers  heap  up  fortunes  for  Tammany  poli- 
ticians, while  these  thousands  of  little  ones  are  outcasts  and 
soon  will  be  criminals. 

The  children  of  the  slums  are  with  us,  born  to  inheritances 
that  tax  every  power  goodmen  and  women  can  bring  to  bear 
on  them  for  their  correction.    Hopeless  as  the  outlook  often 


A  MARVELOUS  TRANSFORMATION. 


175 


Cava,  a  seven-year-old  child  who  for  a  year  after  the  mother 
had  forsaken  husband  and  children  had  been  in  the  care  of  a 
woman  living  in  the  ik  Great  Bend"  on  Mulberry  Street. 

In  this  case  an  anonymous  Letter  called  the  attention  of  the 
Society  to  the  case.  The  woman,  whose  husband  kept  a  stale- 
beer  dive,  drank,  and 
the  two  had  spent  their 
drunken  fury  on  the 
child,  who  when  found 
was  a  wild-eyed  crea- 
ture shrinking  in  abject 
terror  from  whoever 
came  near.  She  had 
reason.  Her  hair  was 
matted  with  blood,  and 
her  face,  arms,  and  body 
were  covered  with 
wounds  around  which 
the  blood  had  dried  and 
remained.  A  few  rags 
of  clothing  could  not 
hide  the  hideous  bruises, 
and  yet  a  lovely  face 
was  hidden  under  this 
mask  of  filth  and  clotted 
blood.  Transferred,  as 
is  the  custom  of  the 
Society,  to  those  of  her 
own  faith,  the  Sisters 
of  St.  Dominick  have 


PATRICK  LACEY  —  AGE  10. 

As  rescued  by  the  Society's  officers.  —  Face  cut,  bruised, 
and  swollen  by  beatings  from  drunken  parents. 


good  reason  to  be  proud  of  this  marvelous  change,  no  greater, 
however,  than  that  encountered  a  little  farther  on. 

Here  is  a  boy  barely  ten  years  old,  whose  left  eye  is 
nearly  destroyed,  and  whose  ears  have  been  partially  torn  from 
his  head  by  a  drunken  father,  who  at  the  same  time  threw  the 
eighteen-months  baby  across  the  room  and  beat  his  wife  till 
she  escaped  and  ran  to  the  street  for  help.    This  man,  already 


I 


Homeless  and  Friendless. 

Tins  is  a  really  superb  picture,  one  that  has  brought- tears  to  many  eyes.  It  shows 
a  poor,  homeless  little  boy,  without  a  friend  in  the  world,  sitting  on  the  door- 
step of  a  cheap  lodging-house,  the  door  and  shutters  of  which  have  been  closed 
against  him.  The  little  fellow's  rags,  his  loneliness  and  tears,  and  his  utter  despair, 
tell  the  story  more  eloquently  than  words.  It  is  a  remarkable  illustration,  and  was 
made  from  an  instantaneous  photograph  from  life.  It  is  full  of  pathos,  and  is  con- 
sidered by  many  able  critics  to  be  the  gem  of  the  series. 


HOMELESS  AND  FRIENDLESS. 


DISTRESSING  CASES. 


177 


Society's  building-  at  Twenty-third  Street  and  Fourth  Avenue. 
Here  is  an  arrangement  like  that  of  the  Rogue's  Gallery  at  the 
Police  Headquarters ;  and  though  it  is  impossible  to  give  every 
case,  all  the  representative  ones  may  be  looked  at  in  turn. 
"Before  and  after  "  is  the  order  of  the  photographs,  but  often 
there  is  no  "  after  "  save  that  brought  by  merciful  death. 

Here  on  a  soap-box  is 
a  picture  of  the  body  of 
an  eleven-months  baby 
starved  to  death  by  a 
drunken  mother.  The 
little  frame  is  only  a 
skeleton,  and  the  pitiful 
face  has  a  strange  smile, 
as  if  of  triumph  at  escape. 
Near  it  is  the  figure  of  a 
seven-year-old  child  found 
far  up  toAvn  on  the  East 
side,  with  her  hands  tied 
with  a  bit  of  old  rope 
cutting  into  old  sores. 
Body,  head,  and  face  were 
covered  with  bruises  and 
cuts,  many  of  them  fresh 
and  bleeding.  This  had 
been  done  by  a  drunken 
father  and  steprn other  As  found  half  Btarved  °y  the  society's  officers.— Face 

cut  and  body  bruised  by  inhuman  parents. 

who   had   also  nearly 

starved  her ;  and  an  indignant  policeman  on  the  beat  had  taken 
the  law  into  his  own  hands  and  arrested  both  without  waiting 
for  any  process.  Both  were  convicted,  and  the  child  herself 
recovered  with  that  marvelous  recuperative  power  of  even  the 
most  defrauded  childhood,  and  looks  out  with  happy  eyes  from 
the  photograph  taken  a  few  weeks  later. 

Farther  on  one  encounters  the  photographs  of  two  street 

Arabs,  brothers,  John  and  Willie  D  -,  two  small  beggars. 

made  so  by  their  father,  whose  only  object  in  life  was  dis- 


PATRICK  KIELEY  —  AGE  11. 


WILD  AND  STARVED  STREET  WAIFS. 


183 


came  one,  a  baby  of  three,  the  child  of  an  Irishwoman  and  a 
Chinaman,  dressed  in  Chinese  costume,  and  a  subject  of  fierce 
dispute  in  these  unsavory  regions,  as  the  Chinaman  wished  to 
send  her  to  China, 
and  had  planned  to 
do  so  when  the  Soci- 
ety was  notified  and 
interfered. 

Some  of  these 
waifs  are  as  fierce 
and  wild  as  starved 
d<  >gs,  but  for  the  most 
part  they  are  silent, 
scared,  trembling  lit- 
tle wretches,  covered 
with  bruises,  know- 
ing no  argument  but 
the  strap,  and  look- 
ing with  feeble  inter- 
est at  the  large  col- 
lection, at  the  Socie- 
ty's headquarters,  of 
whips,  knives,  canes, 
broomsticks,  and  all 
the  weapons  employ- 
ed in  torture,  many 
of  them  still  blood-stained  or  bent  from  the  force  of  the  blows 
given.  There  they  hang  on  the  wall  of  the  inner  room,  a  per- 
petual appeal  to  all  who  look,  to  aid  in  the  work  of  rescue  and 
make  such  barbarity  forevermore  impossible.  Face  after  face 
comes  up,  each  one  an  added  protest  against  the  misery  it  lias 
known.  Here  is  little  Nellie  Brady,  with  hair  a  painter  would 
gaze  at  with  delight,  found  hungry  and  abandoned,  wandering 
in  the  streets.  The  gallery  of  photographs  shows  what  one 
day  of  care  had  brought  about,  and  gives  a  face  full  of  sweet- 
ness and  promise  like  hundreds  of  others  in  like  case. 

What  has  been  the  actually  accomplished  work  of  the  Soci- 


NELLIE  BRADY  — AGE  7. 
As  found  by  the  Society's  officers. 


184 


A  MAGNIFICENT  RECORD. 


ety  ?  During  the  sixteen  years  of  its  existence  it  has  investi- 
gated nearly  55,000  complaints,  involving  about  160,000  child- 
ren. Of  these  complaints  over  18,000  cases  have  been  prose- 
cuted ;  over  17,500  convictions  secured ;  about  30,000  children 
relieved  and  rescued ;  7,500  sheltered,  fed,  and  clothed  in  its 
reception  rooms,  and  upwards  of  70,000  meals  furnished. 


NELLIE  BRADY. 
After  a  day  in  the  Society's  care.   Never  claimed. 


By  its  action  and  example  227  Societies  have  been  organized 
and  are  now  in  active  operation  throughout  the  world,  working 
in  unison  with  it.  It  lias  framed  and  secured  the  passage  of  laws 
for  the  protection  and  preservation  of  children,  which  have 
been  copied  and  re-enacted  not  only  throughout  the  United 
States  but  in  Europe.  And  it  enforces  those  laws  by  the  pros- 
ecution of  offenders  with  a  vigor  which  has  made  it  a  terror  to 
every  cruel  brute.  Its  work  never  ceases  by  day  or  night,  dur- 
ing summer  or  winter. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 


MISSION  WORK  IN  TOUGH  PLACES  —  SEEKING  TO  SAVE  — A 
LEAF  FROM  THE  EXPERIENCE  OF  AN  ALL-NIGHT  MISSION- 
ARY —  RESCUE  WORK  IN  THE  SLUMS. 

The  Cremorne  Mission  —  A  Piteous  Cry  for  Help  — "Lock  me  up"  —  Mrs. 
McAuley's  Prayer  —  A  Convert  from  the  Lowest  Depths  —  Ragged  Kitty, 
the  News  Girl  —  Marks  of  a  Mother's  Cruelty — "Let  me  out"  —  "I  Want 
me  Pat"  —  Distressing  Scenes — "Mashing"  the  Baby  —  Begging  for 
Shelter  and  Warmth  —  An  Ail-Night  Missionary's  Story  —  A  Baxter  Street 
Audience  —  "  Roll,  Jordan,  Roll  !  "  —  Story  of  Welsh  Jennie  —  A  Mother's 
Love  —  "She  is  Dead"  —  Seeking  to  Save  —  A  Midnight  Tour  through 
Dens  of  Vice  and  Misery  —  Horrible  Sights  —  An  Emblem  of  Purity  in  the 
Midst  of  Vice  —  "It's  no  Use!  It's  no  Use!"  —  "Don't  you  Know  me 
Mother?  Iam  your  Jennie"  —  Affecting  Meeting  of  a  Mother  and  her 
Erring  Daughter  —  Old  Michael's  Story  —  Fifty-three  Years  in  Prisons  — 
Taking  the  Last  Chance. 

C  IT'S  life  and  death!    Don't  stop  me!    Clear  the  way,  I 

1    tell  you.  or  there'll  be  mischief  done!" 

Truly  it  looked  liked  it.  The  man's  face  was  flushed  to  a 
dark  red,  and  yet  \v;is  curiously  pale  about  the  lips.  He  was 
tall  and  powerful;  a  bullet  head  and  heavy  jaw,  and  long 
strong  arms  that  swung- like  flails  as  he  ran  wildly  down  the 
street. 

"It's  murder,"  some  one  said,  as  with  frightened  eyes  all 
made  way  for  the  fleeing  man.  A  policeman  hastened  his  steps 
as  the  fugitive  rounded  the  corner  into  Thirty-second  Street, 
for  the  first  rush  had  been  down  Seventh  Avenue  from  one  of 
the  high  tenementdiouses  not  far  away.  The  broad  doors  of 
the  Cremorne  Mission  swung  open  the  instant  the  man  reached 
them  as  if  some  one  behind  them  had  felt  the  rush  and 
answered  the  cry  of  a  need  unknown  as  yet,  but  of  the  sorest. 

"  Lock  me  up! "  he  cried,  as  the  doors  swiftly  closed  behind 
him,  and  he  fell  limp  and  breathless  on  one  of  the  long  benches. 

(185) 


186 


A  PITEOUS  APPEAL  FOR  HELP. 


"  Lock  me  up !  You  promised  to  help  me.  Help  me  now  or 
I'm  gone.  It's  on  me,  T  tell  you.  I'm  going  mad  if  I  ain't 
helped." 


ENTRANCE  TO  THE  CREMORNE  MISSION. 


Frank,  to  whom  this  appeal  Avas  addressed,  was  the  faith- 
ful man  in  charge  of  the  Cremorne  Mission  rooms,  and  was 
himself  a  convert  from  the  lowest  depths.  He  had  been  a 
drunken  sailor,  dragged  into  the  Water  Street  Mission  by  a 
friend,  and  to  his  own  intense  and  always  fresh  surprise  Avas 
converted  before  the  evening  ended.  The  most  secret  cranny 
of  a  drunkard's  mind  was  an  open  book  to  him.  He  knew 
every  possibility  and  phase  of  this  and  of  every  other  malady 
of  soul  that  could  possibly  be  brought  before  the  Mission,  and 
he  regarded  each  fresh  case  as  another  chance  for  him  to  bear 


GOSPEL  SERVICE  IN  THE  sums. 


105 


Then  there  was  the  "  Midget, "  with  innocent,  doll-like  face, 
and  others  of  less  notoriety. 

The  room  was  well  filled,  so  I  brought  the  song  service  to  a 
close  and  was  about  to  read  the  Scripture,  when  the  discordant 
sounds  of  an  approaching  street  hand  caused  the  audience  to 
vise  en  masse  and  rush  down  the  stairs,  Leaving  me  alone  save 
one  or  two  tramps  whose  deep  slumbers  could  hot  by  any 
possibility  have  been  disturbed.  It  was  a  common  occurrence 
tor  my  audience  to  leave  without  ceremony.  A  dog-tight  or 
any  disturbance  on  the  street  would  empty  the  room  imme- 
diately. 

I  was  obliged  to  go  out  again  and  "compel  them  to  come 
in."  When  order  was  restored  I  read  the  story  of  the  Prodigal 
Son.  All  listened  quietly,  and  I  was  only  interrupted  by  the 
stertorous  snores  of  the  sleepers,  and  by  the  yells  and  cat-calls 
of  street  boys  who  persistently  hooted  at  the  door.  The  story 
was  familiar  to  many,  some  of  whom  had  literally  left  good 
homes,  gone  into  a  far  country,  spent  their  substance  in  riotous 
living,  and  had  arrived  at  the  pig-pen  point  of  the  journey; 
and  my  prayer  was  that  some  might  arise  and  come  back  to 
their  Father. 

I  was  urging  them  to  do  this  when  a  woman  entered  and 
crouched  near  the  door.  My  attention  was  drawn  to  her  at 
once, —  she  was  such  a  wreck.  Though  not  over  twenty  she 
looked  forty.  Tlagged,  dirty,  bruised,  and  bloated,  she  had 
hardly  the  semblance  of  a  woman.  I  told  for  her  benefit  the 
story  of  the  Scotch  lassie  who  had  wandered  away  from  home, 
and  of  her  return  and  welcome  by  a  loving  mother.  I  ended 
by  saying,  k>  There  are  those  here  to-night  who  have  a  loving 
mother  still  praying  for  them."  This  shot  at  a  venture  struck 
home.  Her  lips  quivered;  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks.  She 
was  the  first  to  come  forward  for  prayers.  She  told  me 
between  her  sobs  that  she  was  the  only  daughter  of  a  praying 
mother,  then  living  in  another  part  of  the  city.  She  had  erred 
in  the  choice  of  her  company,  and  an  elder  brother  in  anger 
had  put  her  out  of  the  house,  threatening  to  kill  her  if  she 
returned  to   disgrace  the  family.      Driven   from    home  she 


196 


a  visit  to  Jennie's  mother. 


gradually  sank  from  one  level  to  another  until  she  became  an 
outcast  on  the  street.  For  five  years  she  had  neither  seen  a 
relative  nor  heard  from  home.  I  urged  her  to  return,  but  she 
hesitated,  doubting  her  welcome.  I  promised  to  visit  her 
mother  and  plead  for  her,  and  the  girl  finally  promised  to  be 
at  the  meeting  the  next  night. 

The  next  day  I  visited  her  mother.  She  was  a  Welsh 
woman,  sixty  years  of  age,  living  on  the  top  floor  of  a  cheap 
tenement-house.  She  had  been  a  Christian  for  many  years. 
After  conversing  with  her  on  other  matters  I  cautiously  in- 
quired if  she  had  a  daughter  named  Jennie,  and  was  surprised 
when  she  calmly  answered  "  No."  I  told  her  I  had  been 
informed  that  she  had. 

"Well,  I  once  had  a  daughter  by  that  name,"  she  slowly 
said ;  "  but  she  is  dead." 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  ? " 

"  Yes.  At  least  I  think  she  is.  Yes,  I  am  sure  she  is.  We 
have  not  heard  from  her  in  five  years.  Then  we  heard  she 
was  dead." 

I  told  her  she  was  still  alive  and  anxious  to  return  home. 
The  mother's  love  returned.  In  great  agitation  and  with  tears 
streaming  down  her  face  she  exclaimed :  — 

"Tell  her  she  is  welcome.  Oh,  find  her  and  bring  her  to  me, 
and  all  shall  be  forgiven.  For  God's  sake  do  not  disappoint 
me.    It  will  kill  me  if  you  do." 

I  promised  to  bring  Jennie  home  without  fail.  But  that 
night  she  was  not  at  the  meeting.  In  vain  I  searched  all  the 
haunts  of  vice  in  the  neighborhood,  but  found  no  trace  of  her. 

In  one  of  the  saloons  I  met  an  acquaintance, — a  young- 
prize-fighter.  He  had  drifted  into  the  mission  room  one  night 
and  had  disturbed  the  meeting  so  much  that  in  sheer  despera- 
tion I  suddenly  seized  him  by  the  collar  and  bounced  him 
through  the  door  with  such  quick  despatch  that  it  had  Avon  his 
profound  admiration  and  warm  friendship.  I  told  him  the 
object  of  my  search.  He  said  that  Jennie  was  probably  in  some 
stale-beer  "dive,"  adding  that  stale-beer  dives  were  under- 
ground cellars  or  small  rooms  kept  by  Italians,  where  liquor 


198 


IX  DARKEST  NEW  YOKK. 


help  any  one  out  of  them  dives.  I  ain't  religious  like,  yer 
understand?  Fer  can't  be  religious  an'  fight,  can \w(  Well, 
that's  how  I  makes  my  eat.  No  fight,  no  oat,  see?  So  its 
either  eat  or  religion,  an1  as  I  takes  naterally  to  eat  an'  don't 
to  religion,  I  eats  an'  fights  an'  fights  an'  eats.  See?  I  inav 
ret'oi'in  some  dav  an'  i»it  religion.  I  hain't  ffot  nothin'  affin  it 
nohow." 

We  walked  rapidly  through  a  narrow  dark  street;  then 
turned  into  a  long  alleyway  leading  into  an  area  or  back  yard, 
in  which  stood  a  typical  rear  tenement-house.  We  entered  and 
climbed  up  the  rickety  stairs.  My  guide  unceremoniously 
pushed  open  a  door,  and  we  found  ourselves  in  a  room  dimly 
lighted  by  a  peddler's  lamp.  The  English  language  cannot 
describe  the  scene  before  us.  The  room  was  crowded  with  men 
and  women  of  the  most  degraded  type.  Misery,  rags,  filth,  and 
vermin  Avere  on  every  side,  and  above  all  arose  a  stench  so  ut- 
terly vile  that,  the  nostrils  once  assailed,  it  could  never  be  forgot- 
ten. All  were  more  or  less  intoxicated  and  stared  idiotically  at 
us.  A  quick  survey  was  all  I  could  stand ;  the  stench  and  sights 
were  so  horrible  I  beat  a  hasty  retreat  and  was  about  to  return 
to  the  street,  when  the  fighter  informed  me  that  there  were  six 
other  places  of  like  character  in  that  one  house.  He  then  led 
me  downstairs  into  an  underground  room,  the  floor  of  which 
was  bare  ground  ;  the  walls  were  covered  with  green  slime,  and 
water  was  dripping  from  the  ceiling.  Yet  crowded  into  this 
hole  and  huddled  together  were  fifteen  men  and  women. 

As  we  entered,  some  one  shouted,  "What's  wanted?"  "  A 
girl  named  Jinny,"  said  the  fighter.  As  he  said  this  a  young 
girl  started  up,  but  was  knocked  back  by  a  big  ruffian  who 
rushed  forward,  cursing  fearfully  and  asking  "What's  wanted 
with  the  girl  ?"  As  he  advanced  in  a  threatening  manner  and 
seemed  aboul  to  annihilate  me.  I  fell  like  withdrawing.  But 
when  he  had  nearly  reached  us  the  lighter  struck  out,  knocking 
the  brute  over  several  others  into  t ho  corner,  where  he  lay  rub- 
bing his  head.  The  fighter,  satisfying  himself  that  Jenny  was 
not  1  here,  quiel  ly  withdrew. 

We  visited  several  other  places,  and  finally  one  worse  than 


OLD  ROSA'S  DEN. 


199 


all,  kept  by  an  Italian  hag  named  Rosa.  We  entered  a  hall 
and  stumbled  over  several  sleepers  who  lay  on  the  floor  too 
drunk  to  notice  our  stepping  on  them.  Propped  up  on  either 
side  along;  the  walls  were  men  and  women  dead  drunk  or  fast 
asleep.  A  dim  light  shone  through  the  alley  and  into  the  hall 
from  the  street  lamp,  and  by  crouching  down  we  soon  ascer- 
tained that  Jennie  was  not  there.  "  We  will  go  into  this  room 
if  we  kin  git  in,"  said  my  guide  as  he  banged  away  at  a  door 
at  the  farther  end  of  the  hall.  "  Yer  see  de  old  gal,  when  dey 
gits  full  an'  can't  set  up  an'  spend  money,  chucks  'em  out  into 
de  hall  an'  pulls  de  knob  of  de  door  in  so  dey  can't  git  back 
agin." 

Sure  enough  the  knob  was  in,  and  it  took  several  vigorous 
raps  to  get  a  response  from  within.  At  last  the  door  was 
cautiously  opened  by  old  Rosa,  and  the  fighter  pushed  his 
way  in. 

The  place  was  crowded.  Our  advent  caused  a  flutter  and 
muttered  comment  among  those  sober  enough  to  notice  us. 
Some  tried  to  escape,  taking  us  for  detectives.  Others  said, 
"It's  the  Doctor,  don't  be  afraid/'  I  had  a  kind  word  for 
them  all ;  the  fighter,  too,  reassured  them,  and  confidence  Avas 
in  a  measure  restored.  While  he  was  searching  for  Jennie,  I 
looked  around. 

The  room  was  filled  with  the  hardest,  filthiest  set  of  men 
and  women  I  had  ever  seen.  Many  were  nearly  naked. 
Bloated  faces  were  cut  and  swollen,  and  eyes  blackened,  while 
on  the  neck,  hands,  and  other  exposed  parts  of  the  body  could 
be  seen  on  many,  great  festering  sores.  Vermin  large  enough 
to  be  seen  with  the  naked  eye  abounded. 

Boards  placed  on  the  top  of  beer-kegs  made  seats.  Under 
these,  piled  in  like  sacks  of  salt,  were  those  who  had  become 
too  drunk  to  sit  up.  Others  occupied  the  seats  and  dangled 
their  feet  in  the  faces  of  those  underneath,  often  stepping  with 
drunken  tread  on  some  upturned  face.  In  one  corner  of  the 
room  was  a  bed  made  from  dry-goods  boxes,  covered  with  an 
old  mattress  and  rags.  On  this  were  lying  two  little  Italian 
children.     Their  innocent  faces  Avere  in  strong  contrast  to 


302 


Jennie's  terrible  plight. 


listened  t<>  my  appeal  now  joined  us  in  urging  her  to  go  homo. 
He  said,  "  You  had  better  go;  you  know  if  you  stay  around 
here  likely  as  not  I'll  be  ordering  the  dead-wagon  for  you,  and 
you'll  be  carted  off  and  dumped  in  the  Morgue  and  buried  in 
Potters' Field."  This  had  no  effect.  Finally,  losing  patience, 
he  gave  her  a  poke  with  his  club,  saying,  "Get  out  o'  here. 
You've  got  a  good  chance.  If  you  don't  take  it  Til  club  the 
lite  out  o'  you  if  I  ever  catch  you  on  my  beat  again." 

Once  on  the  street  she  became  more  tractable  but  more  de- 
spondent, saying,  "It's  no  use;  it's  no  use." 

The  fighter,  who  had  become  intensely  interested,  ex- 
claimed :  "  What  yer  want  to  do  is  to  brace  up  an'  go  home  an' 
do  de  straight  thing.  Don't  give  in.  You'll  get  along.  Don't 
it  say,  mishener,  that  de  Lord  will  percure?  I  ain't  religious 
much  meself,  but  I  think  it  does.  For  when  I  was  a  doin'  ten 
days  on  de  island  a  lady  gave  me  a  track  that  said  something 
like  that  on  it." 

At  length,  though  very  reluctantly,  she  consented  to  go 
with  us.  She  was  in  a  terrible  plight,  being  half  naked  and 
covered  with  filth.  We  took  her  to  the  house  of  a  Christian 
woman  who  gave  her  a  bath,  combed  her  matted  hair,  and  gave 
her  clothing.  Then  we  started  for  her  home,  reaching  there 
about  three  o'clock.  All  was  dark,  but  we  groped  our  way  to 
the  top  of  the  house,  to  her  mother's  door.  The  poor  woman, 
worn  out  with  watching,  had  fallen  asleep,  but  Avoke  at  our 
rap.  She  told  us  to  go  into  the  front  room.  We  did  so.  Jen- 
nie had  been  weeping  silently,  but  now,  as  the  old  familiar 
pictures  on  the  wall  became  visible  by  the  dim  light  of  the 
candle,  she  began  to  sob  aloud.  The  mother  entered  with  a 
lamp  in  her  hand.  She  gave  one  glance  at  the  girl,  then 
quickly  stepped  back,  nearly  dropping  the  lamp.  "  That  is  not 
my  daughter,"  she  wildly  cried.  "  You  have  made  a  mistake. 
No.  no,  that  is  not  my  Jennie.  It  can't  be."  She  covered  her 
face  wTith  her  hands  and  sank  to  the  floor  beneath  the  bur- 
den of  her  grief.  u  Yes,  mother,  it  is  your  Jennie,  your  poor, 
lost  Jennie.  Don't  you  know  me?  There's  Willie's  picture, and 
that's  Charlie's,"  she  said,  pointing  to  some  photographs  on  the 


206 


A  SOLEMN  WARNING. 


at  the  end  o'  your  tether,  Michael  Dunn,'  says  he.  '  Yes,  you 
are.  You've  got  brains  an'  you've  used  them  for  naught,  since 
God  give  'em  to  you,  but  to  do  rascality  an'  teach  the  same  to 
others.  It's  time  now  to  turn  round  an'  see  if  you  can't  undo 
some  o'  your  wicked  work.  Do  you  like  it  \  Do  you  want  to 
keep  on  servin'  terms  till  you  go  up  to  your  last  Judge  ?  I  be- 
lieve you  can 
be  an  honest 
man  an'  a 
happy  one  if 
you  will.' 

"I  looked 
at  him  kind 
o'  dazed  like. 
Me  —  honest 
and  happy ! 
Me  —  that 
had  never 
had  wife  nor 
home  nor 
naught  but 
from  hand  to 
mouth,  in  the 
few  months 
I'd  be'  out  ! 
I  laughed, 

but  it  wasn't  a  very  cheerful  laugh,  an'  Jerry  says,  stern-like 
as  ever  I  heard  :  '  Michael  Dunn,  it's  your  last  chcmce.  Come 
here  to-night,  an'  see  what  you  think  o'  what  goes  on  in  this 
place.' 

"  Well  i  come  to  the  Mission  that  night.  I  was  that  sick 
an'  sore  inside  I  was  ready  for  anything,  an'  when  the  door 
opened  an'  I  heard  'em  a-singin', — 

"  '  For  weary  feet  remains  a  street, 
Of  wondrous  pave  and  golden,'  — 

"I  says  to  myself,  says  I,  'I  want  to  walk  it  some  time,  an'  if 
there's  any  way  o'  learnin'  how,  I'll  stay  here  till  I  find  out.' 


STATION  HOUSE  PRISON  CELLS. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 


THE  SLI  MS  BY  NIGHT  — THE  UNDER  WORLD  OF  NEW  YORK- 
LIFE  AND  SCENES  IN  DENS  OF  INFAMY  AND  CRIME  —  NIGHT 
REFUGES  FOR  WOMEN  —  FAST  LIFE  —  CHRISTIAN  WORK 
AMONG  OUTCASTS. 

A  Nocturnal  Population  —  Dens  of  Infamy  —  Gilded  Palaces  of  Sin  —  The 
Open  Door  to  Ruin  —  Worst  Phases  of  Night  Life  —  Barred  Doors  and 
Sliding  Panels  —  Mysterious  Disappearances  —  The  Bowery  by  Night  — 
Free-and-Kasvs  and  Dime  Museums  —  A  Region  of  the  Deepest  Poverty 
and  Vice — Vice  the  First  Product,  Death  the  Second  —  Nests  of  Crime  — 
The  Sleeping  Places  of  New  York's  Outcasts — Lowering  Brows  and  Evil 
Eyes  —  The  Foxes.  Wolves;  and  Owls  of  Humanity  —  Thieves  and  Nook- 
and-Corner  Men  —  Women  with  Bent  Heads  and  Despairing  Eyes  —  One 
More  Victim  — Night  Tramps  — A  Class  that  Never  Goes  to  Bed  — The 
Beautiful  Side  of  Womanhood  —  Girls' Lodging-Houses — Homes  for  the 
Homeless — Gratitude  of  Saved  Women — The  Work  of  the  Night  Refuges 

QTXSET  lias  come,  diffusing  mellow  light  over  the  beautiful 


O  harbor  and  the  fair  islands  of  New  York  bay.  Nowhere 
is  the  soft  twilight  more  enchanting.  By  five  o'clock  the  great 
warehouses  along  the  river  front,  and  the  office  buildings  and 
stores  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  begin  to  empty  themselves, 
and  merchants,  brokers,  lawyers,  and  clerks  stream  up  town  to 
their  homes,  or  to  the  substitutes  for  them  found  in  boarding- 
houses.  The  heavy  iron  shutters  are  lowered.  Office-boys  skip 
away  with  such  alertness  as  is  left  in  their  tired  little  legs. 
Weary  porters  straighten  boxes  and  strive  to  bring  order  out 
of  the  day's  confusion.  Presently  the  night  watchman  conies 
in,  and,  save  for  the  rush  of  the  elevated  trains,  lower  New 
York,  silent  and  forsaken,  rests  in  quiet  till  morning  once  more 
briners  the  stir  and  roar  of  traffic  and  the  anxious  or  eager  or 
preoccupied  faces  of  the  men  who  are  rulers  in  the  business 
world. 

They  have  come  from  homes  where  also  quiet  has  reigned ; 


(208) 


214 


STREET  OUTCASTS  AND  VILLAINS. 


journey  lay  through  hell,  and  whose  "Inferno"  holds  no  more 
terrible  picture  than  those  to  be  encountered  at  a  hundred 
points  in  a  single  night  among  the  outcasts  who  call  the  streets 
their  home. 

In  all  this  region  there  is  a  blaze  of  light  till  long  after  mid- 
night. Troops  of  wayfarers  come  and  go,  and  the  many  bars 
do  a  thriving  business.    Then  one  by  one  lights  dwindle  and 


/ 


HOMELESS  BOYS  SLEEPING  IN  A  COAL  CELLAR  UNDER  THE  SIDEWALK. 

go  out,  and  the  foxes,  wolves,  and  owls  of  humanity  come  forth 
and  watch  for  their  prey.  From  South  Ferry  up  toward  the 
Old  Slip  they  lurk  at  corners,  vigilant  and  silent,  taking  ac- 
count of  every  passer-by,  and  robbing  if  a  favorable  moment 
comes.  Thieves,  smugglers,  "  nook-and-corner "  men  are  seen 
for  a  moment  and  then  vanish  as  swiftly  as  they  came.  Women 
are  there,  too,  —  some  singing,  or  laughing  a  laugh  with  no 
merriment  in  it;  but  for  the  most  part  they,  too,  are  silent. 
Now  and  then  one  who  has  walked  with  bent  head  and  despair- 
ing eyes  makes  a  sudden  resolve;  there  is  a  swift,  flying  rush 
toward  the  dark  Avater  beyond,  and  the  river  closes  over  one 
more  victim.    Such  a  sight  is  a  familiar  fact  to  the  policemen 


2 1 6 


A  STKKKT  OIKt/s  KM). 


and  a  cup  of  coffee.  It  was  in  this  dingy  basement  thai  a 
woman  of  about  thirty  drifted  only  the  other  day.  She  was 
a  comely  woman,  with  regular  features  and  (lark  hair.  A 
thin  shawl  was  drawn  over  her  shoulders;  her  dress  was 
ragged  and  worn,  her  face  deathly  pale.  She  had  no  money, 
and  when  she  faintly  begged  for  food  a  swarthy  Italian  paid 
five  cents  for  the  coffee  and  a  crust  of  bread  that  were  served 
to  her. 

She  drank  the  coffee,  and  thrust  the  crust  into  her  pocket. 
She  would  have  gone  then,  but  she  was  trembling  with  weak- 
ness and  the  man  who  paid  for  her  food  held  her  back.  She 
sat  silent  and  thoughtful  on  the  narrow  bench  until  long  after 
nightfall.  Then  she  drew  the  crust  from  her  pocket  and  began 
to  nibble  it. 

,k  Let  me  warm  the  bread  for  you,"  said  the  keeper's 
little  boy.  He  put  it  on  the  stove,  warmed  it,  and  brought  it 
hack  to  the  woman,  who  suddenly  gasped,  and  died. 

The  police  propped  her  up  on  the  bench,  and  all  night  long 
her  lifeless  body  waited  for  removal  in  the  dead  wagon  to 
the  Morgue.  In  her  pocket  was  found  the  remnant  of  the 
crust,  and  a  copy  of  these  verses  printed  on  red  paper  : 

On  the  street,  on  the  street, 
To  and  fro  with  weary  feet  ; 
Aching  heart  and  aching  head  ; 
Homeless,  lacking  daily  bread  ; 
Lost  to  friends,  and  joy,  and  name, 
Sold  to  sorrow,  sin,  and  shame  ; 
Ruined,  wretched,  lone,  forlorn  ; 
Weak  and  wan,  with  weary  feet, 
Still  I  w  ander  on  the  street  ! 

On  the  si  reel,  on  the  street, 
Midnight  finds  my  straying  feet  ; 
Hark  the  sound  of  pealing  bells, 
Oh,  the  tales  their  music  tells! 
Happy  hours  forever  gone  ; 
Happy  childhood,  peaceful  home  — 
Then  a  mother  on  me  smiled, 
Then  a  father  owned  his  child  — 
Vanish,  mocking  visions  sweet  ! 
Still  I  wander  on  the  street. 


RAYS  OF  LIGHT  IN  DARK  PLACES. 


217 


On  the  street,  on  the  street, 
Whither  tend  my  wandering  feet  ? 
Love  and  hope  and  joy  are  dead  — 
Not  a  place  to  lay  my  head  ; 
Every  door  against  me  sealed  — 
Hospital  and  Potter's  Field. 
These  stand  open !  —  wider  yet 
Swings  perdition's  yawning  gate, 
Thither  tend  my  wandering  feet, 
On  the  street,  on  the  street. 

On  the  street,  on  the  street  ; 
Might  I  here  a  Saviour  meet ! 
From  the  blessed  far  off  years, 
Comes  the  story  of  her  tears, 
Whose  sad  heart  with  sorrow  broke, 
Heard  the  words  of  love  He  spoke, 
Heard  Him  bid  her  anguish  cease, 
Heard  Him  whisper,  "Go  in  peace!" 
Oh,  that  I  might  kiss  His  feet, 
On  the  street,  on  the  street. 

Of  the  dens  of  crimes  hiding  in  the  narrow  streets  opening 
up  from  the  river  the  police  have  intimate  knowledge.  We 
leave  them  behind  as  once  more  the  little  light  of  the  Water 
Street  Mission  comes  in  sight.  In  the  midst  of  dark  and 
bloody  ground  its  rays  shine  forth,  and  behind  the  Mission 
doors — open  day  and  night  alike  —  is  the  chief  hope  that 
illumines  the  night  side  of  New  York. 

It  is  to  the  Children's  Aid  Society  that  New  York  owes 
the  first  thought  of  protection  and  care  for  homeless  girls, 
whose  condition  till  girls'  lodging-houses  were  opened  was  in 
many  points  far  worse  than  that  of  boys.  Actual  hardships 
were  perhaps  no  greater,  but  the  very  fact  of  sex  made  their 
position  a  more  critical  one,  while  it  doubled  and  trebled  the 
difficulties  of  the  work  to  be  done. 

Years  ago  Mr.  Brace,  whose  faith  was  of  the  largest,  and 
whose  energy  never  flagged,  wrote  of  them  :  — 

"  I  can  truly  say  that  no  class  we  have  ever  labored  for 
seemed  to  combine  so  many  elements  of  human  misfortune,  and 
to  present  so  many  discouraging  features  as  this.  They  form, 
indeed,  a  class  by  themselves.    .    .    .    It  is  no  exaggeration 


CHAPTEE  X. 


NIGHT  MISSION  WORK  —  N E W  YoKK  STREETS  A PTER  DARK  — 
RESCUE  WORK  AMONG  THE  FALLEN  AM)  DEPRAVED- 
SEARCHING  FOR  THE  LOST— AN  ALL-NIGHT  MISSIONARY'S 
EXPERIENCE. 

The  "Bloody  Sixth  Ward"  —  Hoodlums  —  The  Florence  Night  Mission  — 
Where  the  Inmates  Come  from — A  Refuge  for  Fallen  Women  — 
Searching  for  Lost  Daughters  —  Low  Concert  Halls  —  Country  Boys 
Who  "Come  in  Just  to  See"  —  A  Brand  Plucked  from  the  Burning  — 
Old  Rosa's  Den  of  Villainy  —  In  the  Midst  of  Vice  and  Degradation  — 
Rescue  Work  Among  the  Fallen  —  Accordeon  Mary  —  "Sing!  Sing!" 

—  Gospel  Service  in  a  Stale-Beer  Dive  —  The  Fruits  of  One  False  Step 

—  Scenes  in  Low  Dance-Halls  and  Vile  Resorts — Painted  Wrecks  —  An 
All-Night  Missionary's  Experience  —  Saving  a  Despised  Magdalen  —  A 
Perilous  Moment  —  The  Story  of  Nellie  Conroy  —  Rescued  from  the 
Lowest  Depths  of  Sin  —  Nine  Years  in  the  Slums  —  The  Christian  End 
of  a  Misspent  Life  —  Nearing  the  River  —  Nellie's  Death  —  Who  Was 
E  M  ?  —  Twenty-four  Years  a  Tramp  —  Last  Words. 

THOUGH  the  old  Fourth  Ward,  of  which  Water  Street  was 
once  the  symbol  and  summary,  is  still  counted  as  the  worst 
in  New  York,  yet  there  is  small  choice  between  that  and 
the  "  Bloody  Sixth"  Ward,  named  long  ago  in  the  days  of  the 
notorious  "  Bowery  Bhoys."  That  pnee  name  of  terror  has 
given  place  to  a  type  far  beyond  it  in  evil,  —  the  "Hoodlum," 
born  most  often  of  Irish  parents  and  knowing  liberty  only  as 
the  extremity  of  license.  Even  fifty  years  ago  the  trees  still 
grew  all  the  way  up  from  Water  Street  out  into  Chatham 
Square  and  on  through  the  old  street,  and  the  generation  before 
that  knew  it  as  a  region  of  gardens  and  thickets  and  orchards. 
For  vears  the  remnant  of  one  of  old  Peter  Stuyvesant's  pear- 
trees  offered  its  blossoms  and  fruit  to  the  passer-by,  till  ;i 
memorial  shoot  was  transplanted  to  a  more  congenial  spot,  and 
the  old  tree  which  had  known  the  very  beginning  of  things  for 

(224) 


A  TOUCHING  INVITATION. 


227 


prayer  meeting  where  a  stranger  rose  and  described  a  Mission 
which  had  recently  been  begun  on  Baxter  Street  by  himself  and 
Mr.  Henry  B.  Gibbud.  Mr.  Crittenton  listened,  was  interested, 
Avent  with  the  speaker,  Mr.  Smith  Allen,  saw  for  the  first  time 
the  degradation  and  horror  of  the  life,  and  later  visits  deepened 
the  impression  made  upon  him.  When  the  baby  he  idolized 
was  taken  from  him,  there  seemed  no  interest  in  life  so  strong 
as  this  one  of  offering  redemption  to  the  class  of  men  and 
women  who  filled  the  slums  and  dives  of  this  part  of  the  city. 
The  house  at  29  Bleecker  Street  was  chosen ;  the  two  rooms  of 
the  lower  part  Avere  thrown  into  one  for  a  meeting-room,  and 
the  upper  part  fitted  up  with  beds,  while  the  lower  served  as 
kitchen  and  dining-room.  Mr.  Allen  Avas  engaged  as  the 
all-night  missionary,  a  matron  Avas  put  in  charge,  and  a  super- 
intendent of  home  Avork  appointed. 

It  Avas  in  April,  1883,  that  the  Mission  opened,  the  card  for 
night  work  bearing  these  words  : 

"  Any  Mother's  Girl  Wishing  to  Leave  a  Crooked  Life,  May  Find 
Friends,  Food,  Shelter,  and  a 

HELPING  HAND 

By  Coming  Just  As  She  Is,  to  the  Florence  Night  Mission." 

In  the  first  year  one  hundred  and  seventy-six  fallen  Avomen 
and  girls  Avere  receiATed  into  the  Home.  They  had  had  a  terror 
of  the  ordinary  reformatory  or  Home,  and  often  hesitated  Avhen 
the  Mission  card  Avas  given  them. 

"I  want  to  do  better;  but,  oh,  I  can't  be  shut  up  in  one 
of  those  places,"  Avas  the  cry  of  numbers.  To  find  that  no 
stipulations  Avere  made,  that  the  utmost  liberty  Avas  given, 
that  they  Avere  cared  for  with  food,  clothing,  and  medicine  if 
necessary ;  told  to  stay  as  long  as  they  wished,  or  to  leave  if 
they  felt  they  must,  —  all  this  Avas  a  method  quite  unknown 
to  them.  Soon  every  bed  filled.  Many  begged  to  sleep  on 
the  floor,  and  each  night  the  number  of  unhappy  creatures  at 
the  meetings  increased.  To  meet  this  demand  the  house  next 
door  was  bought,  and  both  thrown  into  one,  with  a  building 
at  the  rear,  so  that  to-day  it  has  the  accommodations  of  the 


228 


A  HAVEN  <>K  PKACK  AND  KKST. 


average  small  hotel,  and  there  are  rooms  lor  every  order  of 
Work  that  must   be  done. 

All  who  enter  the  house  have  a  share  in  the  work,  which  is 
under  the  genera]  direction  of  the  Matron.    Eere  the  inmates 


THE  FLORENCE  NIGHT  MISSION  Bill. DIM.. 


stay  till  employment  can  be  secured,  till  they  can  be  sent  to 
their  own  homes,  or,  as  must  sometimes  be  the  case,  to  the 
hospital  to  die.  On  entering  the  Mission  a  full  record  of  the 
case  is  made  in  the  record  book,  with  a  statement  of  age, 
nationality,  denomination,  residence,  whether  father  or  mother 
are  living  and  if  so,  where,  when  received,  by  whom  brought; 


\ 


The  Florence  Night  Mission. 

This  is  a  fine  picture  of  the  Florence  Night  Mission  building.  Mrs.  Campbell 
gives  a  splendid  account  of  this  famous  mission  and  the  good  work  done  by 
its  all  night  missionaries  and  rescue  bands.  On  the  opposite  page  is  a  picture  made 
by  flash  light,  in  the  mission  room,  of  a  midnight  lunch  for  street  girls  after  evening 
service.  Please  look  particularly  at  this  picture,  and  especially  at  the  woman's  fig- 
ure on  the  right,  for  something  interesting  can  be  told  about  it.  A  short  time  ago 
an  old  woman,  nicknamed  "Shakespeare,"  was  murdered  in  a  cheap  lodging  house 
on  Water  Street.  She  was  supposed  to  have  been  murdered  by  "Jack  the  Kipper," 
and  there  was  a  great  deal  of  excitement  about  it.  Inspector  Byrnes  took  hold 
of  the  case,  and  he  finally  ran  down  a  desperate  character  known  as  "Frenchy." 
He  was  arrested,  tried,  convicted,  and  sentenced  for  the  crime.  Now  the  wonderful 
part  of  this  story  is  told  in  a  Note  (given  on  page  240).  which  see. 


A  REFUCiE  FOR  THE  FALLEN. 


229 


and  when  the  guest  leaves,  a  record  is  made  of  the  date  of 
discharge,  to  whom  and  where  sent,  and  if  subsequently  heard 
from  this  fact  is  noted,  with  any  information  that  will  enable 
the  Mission  to  keep  track  of  her. 

This,  it  will  be  seen,  is  in  reality  a  short  history  of  each 
life  that  finds  shelter  here,  and  each  year  has  seen  an  increas- 
ing number.  In  1890  there  were  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  inmates.  The  average  age  was  twenty-eight.  There 
were  double  the  number  of  Protestants  as  compared  with 


MIDNIGHT  LITNCTT  FOR  STREET  GTRLS  AFTER  EVENING  SERVICE  AT  THE 


FLORENCE  NIGHT  MISSION.* 

Catholics,  and  in  the  entire  number  but  four  Jews.  In  nation- 
ality Americans  led,  there  being  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
three.  Seventy-three  Irish,  fifty-five  English,  ten  Scotch,  two 
Swedish,  nineteen  Germans,  one  Welsh,  one  colored,  and  thirty- 
one  whose  nationality  is  unknown,  made  up  the  list,  which 
for  the  student  of  social  problems  is  a  most  suggestive  one. 

Every  night  the  women  who  saunter  past  these  Mission 
Rooms  can  hear  gospel  hymns  being  sung,  —  hymns  that  re- 
mind many  of  them  of  happy  homes  and  the  days  of  their 
youth.  There  is  a  welcome  for  any  who  choose  to  enter  and 
spend  an  hour.    A  few  words  of  Gospel  truth,  a  reminder  in 

*See  note  on  page  ~U>. 


aao 


[NSIDE  A  CELLAH  STALE  BEEK  DIVE, 


Christ's  own  words  thai  whosoever  conies  to  him  shall  not  be 
cast  out,  and  then  more  sinking  and  a  prayer.  From  the 
houses  around  conic  sounds  of  Uproarious  merriment,  coarse 
jests  and  Laughter;  but  here  in  the  midst  of  all  the  vice  and 
degradation  is  a  haven  of  peace  and  rest.  Main-  women  come 
and  come  again.     Some  are  glad  to  stay. 

It  is  the  nighl  work  of  the  Mission  in  which  the  strongest 
interest  centers.  The  congregation,  when  it  assembles  in  the 
little  chapel,  is  made  up  not  only  of  the  women  and  their 
companions,  who  are  cabmen,  freight-handlers,  saloon-keepers, 
and  countrymen  who  have  come  to  see  city  sights,  but  also 
of  thieves,  drunkards,  and  beggars.  Sixty  thousand  women 
and  men  are  estimated  to  spend  the  night  in  the  streets  of 
New  York  city,  and  thousands  of  them  are  never  seen  in  the 
daytime.  It  is  impossible  to  reach  this  class  unless  one  goes 
among  them,  and  this  takes  one  into  low"  concert  saloons, 
cellar  lodgi ng-rooms,  or  to  any  point  where  experience  has 
taught  that  they  may  be  found.  Now  and  then  a  father  or 
mother  who  has  heard  of  the  Mission  work  comes  and  begs 
that  they  may  be  helped  to  find  a  long-lost  daughter.  A 
photograph  is  sent,  or  a  minute  description  is  given,  and  the 
missionary  looks  critically  at  the  throng  of  faces  assembled  in 
the  Mission  room,  hoping  that  be  may  find  the  one  for  whom 
home  is  waiting. 

The  low  concert-halls  and  stale-beer  dives  offer  the  fullest 
lield.  These  places  are  most  often  in  the  basement,  reached 
by  rickety  stairs,  or  through  dimly  lighted  hallways.  Often 
tin1  rooms  are  small,  the  ceiling  low,  and  the  air  is  always  full 
of  the  fumes  of  tobacco  and  beer.  The  little  tables  placed 
against  the  walls  are  all  taken,  and  the  center  of  the  room  is 
tilled  with  dancers,  most  of  them  young  men  and  girls,  and 
nearly  all  of  them  still  in  their  teens.  Many  of  the  men  are 
loafers,  living  in  part  on  the  gills'  wages  and  in  part  by  thiev- 
ing and  gambling.  Some  of  them  are  country  boys  who  have 
come  in  "just  to  see."  They  will  come  again,  and  in  the  end 
find  the  woe  and  shame  that  lurk  under  this  cover  of  amuse- 
ment. 


[ 


WHERE  THE  INMATES  COME  FROM. 


233 


The  girls  ?  Some  of  them  are  country  girls,  drawn  by  this 
magnet  of  city  life,  who  came  seeking  honest  employment  and 
found  betrayal.  Many  are  honest  working  girls  who  wanted 
dress  and  "  fun,"  and  were  caught  in  the  meshes  of  this  net  be- 
fore they  realized  what  the  danger  was.  Now  and  then  the 
keeper  of  one  of  these  dens  will  himself  warn  a  girl  to  leave 
before  it  is  too  late.  He  knows  the  unsuspicious  girl  who  has 
been  brought  in  by  some  villain,  quite  unconscious  of  danger. 


AN  EVERT  DAY  AND  EVERY  NIGHT  SCENE  IN  A  STALE-BEER  DIVE. 


In  a  dance  hall  near  Hester  Street  is  a  man  who  has  often 
worked  against  his  own  nefarious  business  in  this  fashion,  and 
he  has  a  waiter  equally  ready  to  send  away  such  a  case. 

A  girl  of  this  type  sat  at  one  of  the  tables  one  evening  as 
the  missionary  entered  bringing  with  him  the  photograph  of  a 
girl  he  hoped  to  find.  He  showed  it  to  Tom,  the  waiter,  who 
studied  it  attentively.  He  had  never  seen  her,  and  said  so,  but 
as  if  he  felt  urged  to  help  some  one  in  like  case,  said, 

"  There's  a  girl  acrost  there  that  needs  you,  but  she  won't 
hear  to  have  you  go  right  up  to  her.    Til  fix  it.    Wait  a  little." 

The  soft,  troubled  blue  eyes  of  the  girl  looked  up  surprised 
as  Tom  said  in  her  ear, 


A    l>KN   OF  INFAMY. 


beer  at  a  con t  a  pint  is  the  drink,  and  a  description  of  one  of 
them,  kept  by  Rosa,  an  [talian  woman,  may  stand  for  all.  The 

room  was  small  and  it  owned  no  furniture,  save  a  bed,  a  stove. 

ami  benches  around  the  walls.  At  the  foot  of  the  bed  stood  a 
bench  used  as  a  counter,  where  Rosa  perched  when  she  looked 
up  to  the  picture  on  the  wall,  a  high-colored  saint  with  a  halo, 
before  whom  she  crossed  herself  when  difficulty  arose.  A 


A  STALE-BEER  DIVE  ON  MU  I/I  JERRY  STREET  BY  DAY. 


crowd  of  men  and  women  in  all  stages  of  drunkenness  sat  about 
on  the  benches,  some  listening  to  "Accordeon  Mary"  playing  an 
asthmatic  accordeon,  some  of  them  singing  to  it.  They  looked 
up  interestedly  at  a  fresh  arrival,  and  watched  a  chance  to  pick 
a  pocket.  When  the  last  stage  of  drunkenness  came  on,  the 
victim  was  thrown  out  to  make  room  for  a  fresh  comer. 

On  the  floor  lay  a  woman  who  had  reached  this  stage.  She 
was  behind  the  door,  as  if  she  had  tried  to  hide,  and  Rosa  with 
many  nods  indicated  that  sin;  was  brought  in  by  roughs,  who 
had  given  her  drink  on  the  Bowery  and  then  enticed  her  here, 
it  is  t he  story  of  many.    The  missionary  slipped  a  card  into  her 


236 


RECALLING  HAPPIER  DAYS. 


pocket.  When  she  Avakes,  homeless  and  despairing,  she  may 
possibly  turn  toAvard  the  Mission. 

On  the  benches  poor  creatures  Avere  stretched,  AArith  sAVollen 
eyes  and  cut  faces,  some  of  them  beaten  almost  to  a  jelly. 
One  of  them,  as  A\re  looked,  rose  up  suddenly,  a  AAToman  with 
dishe\relled  gray  locks  and  mad,  Avikl  face. 

"  Sing !  sing ! "  she  Avildly  screamed,  and  Rosa  nodded 
assent. 

"  Sing,  6  Where  is  my  AATandering  boy  to-night,' "  she  cried 
again.    Instead  the  missionary  sang, 

"  Art  thou  weary,  art  thou  languid, 
Art  thou  sore  distressed? 
Come  to  Christ  and  know  in  coming 
He  will  give  thee  rest." 

"  More  !  More ! "  called  the  crowd,  and  the  shrill  AToice  of 
the  gray-haired  woman  rose  aboATe  the  rest.  To  satisfy  the 
crazy  mother  the  missionary  sang  in  rich  and  melodious 
A^oice,  — 

"  Where  is  my  wandering  boy  to-night, 
The  boy  of  my  tenderest  care, 
The  boy  that  was  once  my  joy  and  light, 
The  child  of  my  love  and  prayef? 

"Go,  find  my  wandering  boy  to-night  ; 
Go,  search  for  him  where  you  will, 
But  bring  him  to  me  with  all  his  blight, 
And  tell  him  I  love  him  still." 

Silence  reigned.  One  by  one  the  noisy  inmates  had  settled 
doAArn,  and  AArhen  the  last  line  AAras  sung  scarce  a  whisper  AAras 
heard.  A  man  craAArled  out  from  under  the  benches,  and  sat 
on  the  floor  looking  up  through  tears.  A  AAToman  avIio  had  lain 
in  the  fireplace,  her  hair  filled  AArith  ashes,  burst  into  sobs,  — 
maudlin  tears,  perhaps,  but  sometimes  they  mean  repentance. 

The  missionary  read  a  feAV  verses,  looking  about  to  see  avIio 
Avere  listening.  OArer  in  one  corner  sat  a  pair  AArhose  appear- 
ance was  unlike  the  rest,  and  he  Avondered  Iioav  they  came 
there,  for  they  were  clean  and  of  a  different  order.  As  he 
reached  the  corner  the  young  man  slowly  rose  and  Avhispered, 


THE  LOWEST  OF  THE  LOW. 


We  talked  of  homo  and  mother;  soon  tin*  tears  run  down 
his  bronzed  cheeks,  and  he  said,  "  Heave  ahead ;  ['llgoforold 
times'  Bake,  if  you  don't  think  the  walls  w  ill  fall  on  me."  So, 
one  by  one,  I  induced  them  to  leave  the  dance-hall  and  Gross 
over  to  the  meeting. 

I  had  just  come  out  of  the  place  named  "  Hell  Gate"  when 
I  saw  a  partially  intoxicated  woman  supporting  herself  against 
a  lamp-post,  and  near  by  stood  a  burly  negro.  The  woman 
was  tall  and  thin,  and  it  was  plain  even  then  that  consump- 
tion was  doing  its  fatal  work.  She  had  no  hat,  no  shoes;  a 
dirty  calico  dress  was  all  the  clothing  she  had  on,  and  that  was 
not  in  condition  to  cover  her  nakedness.  Her  hair  was  matted 
and  tangled,  her  face  bruised  and  swollen;  both  eyes  were 
blackened  by  the  fist  of  her  huge  negro  companion,  who  held 
her  as  his  slave  and  had  beaten  her  because  she  had  not  brought 
him  as  much  money  as  he  wanted.  I  invited  her  to  the  meet- 
ing and  passed  on.  Near  the  close  of  the  service  she  came  in  ; 
with  tearful  eyes  she  listened  to  the  story  of  Jesus,  and  was  one 
of  the  first  to  request  prayers.  After  the  meeting  she  ex- 
pressed a  desire  for  a  better  life,  but  she  had  no  place  to  go, 
save  to  the  dens  of  infamy  from  which  she  came.  I  decided  at 
once  to  take  her  to  the  Florence  Night  Mission,  and,  accompa- 
nied by  a  friend  who  had  assisted  me  in  the  meeting,  we 
started. 

We  were  going  toward  the  horse-cars,  and  congratulating 
ourselves  that  we  had  gotten  away  unobserved,  when  we  were 
confronted  by  the  very  negro  from  whom  we  sought  to  escape. 
With  an  oath  he  demanded, 

"Whar  you  folks  takin'  dat  gal  to?" 

It  was  a  fearful  moment,  near  midnight,  a  dark  street,  and 
not  a  soul  insight.  I  expected  every  moment  that  he  would 
strike  me.  I  was  no  match  for  him.  Signaling  my  friend  to 
go  on  with  the  girl,  and  taking  the  negro  by  the  coat,  I  said 

excitedly. 

"  I  am  taking  her  to  a  Christian  home  —  to  a  better  life.  If 
ever  you  prayed  for  any  one,  pray  for  her;  I  know  you  are  a 
bad  man.  but  you  ought  to  be  glad  to  help  any  girl  away  from 
this  place.    So  pray  for  her  as  you  have  never  prayed  before." 

15 


240  A  DOUBTFUL  PROPHECY. 

All  this  time  my  friend  and  the  woman  were  going 
doAvn  the  street  as  fast  as  possible.  I  had  talked  so  fast  that 
the  negro  did  not  have  a  chance  to  say  a  word,  and  before  he 
could  recover  from  his  astonishment  I  ran  on.  lie  did  not 
attempt  to  follow. 


Four  cars  were  hailed  before  one  would  let  us  on.  The 
drivers  would  slacken  up,  but,  seeing  the  woman's  condition, 
would  whip  up  their  horses  and  drive  on.  Finally,  when  the 
next  driver  slackened,  we  lifted  our  frail  burden  to  the  plat- 
form before  he  could  prevent  us. 

Arriving  at  the  Mission,  we  helped  her  up  the  steps  and 
rang  the  bell ;  she  turned  to  me  and  said,  "  You  will  be  proud 
of  me  some  day."  I  smiled  then,  as  I  thought  the  chances  of 
being  proud  of  her  were  slim,  but  how  many  times  since,  when 
vast  audiences  have  been  moved  to  tears  by  the  pathos  of  her 
story,  or  spellbound  by  her  eloquence,  have  I  indeed  been 
proud  of  her. 

She  Avas  admitted  to  the  house,  giving  the  assumed  name 
of  Nellie  Conroy.    For  nine  years  she  had  lived  in  Baxter 


A  REMARKABLE  CONVERSION. 


Street  slums,  becoming  a  victim  to  all  the  vices  that  attend  a 
dissipated  life  until  at  last  she  became  an  utter  wreck.  Every- 
thing was  done  for  her  at  the  Mission,  and  in  time  permanent 
employment  was  found. 

Some  time  after,  word  reached  the  Mission  that  Nellie  had 
left  her  place  and  gone  back  to  her  old  haunts  in  Baxter  Street. 
A  card  with  the  address  of  "The  Florence"  was  left  at  one  of 
her  resorts,  and  the  whole  matter  was  forgotten,  until  late  one 
night  the  doorbell  of  the  Mission  rooms  softly  rang,  and  the 
poor  wretched  object  admitted  proved  to  be  Nellie.  At  the 
meeting  the  next  night  she  was  the  first  to  come  forward. 
When  asked  to  pray,  she  lifted  her  pale  face  to  heaven,  and 
quoted,  wTith  tearful  pathos,  that  beautiful  hymn  : 

"The  mistakes  of  my  life  have  been  many. 
The  sins  of  my  heart  have  been  more; 
And  I  scarce  can  sec  for  weeping, 
But  I'll  knock  at  the  open  door." 

Then  followed  a  touching  prayer,  a  humble  confession  of 
sin.  an  earnest  pleading  for  pardon,  a  quiet  acceptance  of  Christ 
by  faith,  a  tearful  thanksgiving  for  knowledge  of  sins  forgiven. 

Her  life  from  that  time  until  her  death  —  nearly  two  years 
later — was  that  of  a  faithful  Christian.  She  gave  satisfaction 
to  her  employers ;  she  was  blessed  of  God  in  her  testimony  at 
the  Mission,  and  soon  she  was  sought  after  by  churches,  tem- 
perance societies,  and  missions  to  tell  what  great  things  the 
Lord  had  done  for  her.  She  spoke  to  a  large  assemblage  of 
nearly  3,000  people  in  the  Cooper  Union,  New  York,  holding 
the  audience  spellbound  with  her  pathetic  story.  She  possessed 
a  wonderful  gift  of  language  and  great  natural  wit,  that,  com- 
bined with  her  thrilling  story,  made  her  a  most  interesting  and 
entertaining  speaker.  She  was  uneducated,  but  she  had  a 
remarkable  memory;  she  soon  became  familiar  with  the  Bible, 
and  many  were  won  to  Christ  through  her  testimony.  Her 
pale  face  would  become  flushed  with  a  hectic  glow  as  she  spoke 
of  the  wonderful  things  God  had  done  for  her. 

"Glory  be  to  His  great  name !"  she  would  say;  "it  was  no 
common  blood  that  washed  Nellie  Conroy  from  her  sins,  and 


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242 


NINE  YEARS  OF  SIN  AND  DISSIPATION. 


no  common  power  that  reached  down  and  took  her  from  the 
slums  of  Baxter  Street  after  nine  years  of  sin  and  dissipation. 
It  was  nothing  but  the  precious  blood  of  Jesus  that  saved  me. 
Where  are  my  companions  who  started  down  life's  stream 
with  me,  young,  fresh,  and  happy  ?  We  started  out  to  gather 
the  roses  of  life,  but  found  only  thorns.  Many  of  them  to-day 
sleep  in  nameless  and  dishonored  graves  in  the  Potter's 
Field,  and  their  souls — oh!  where  are  they? — while  I  am 
spared,  redeemed ! " 

Her  life  was  indeed  a  changed  one ;  from  idleness,  filth, 
drunkenness,  and  sin,  she  was  transformed  into  a  neat,  indus- 
trious, sober,  godly  woman.  But  sin  had  sown  its  seed  and 
she  must  reap  the  harvest ;  she  grew  Aveaker  until  at  last  she 
went  to  the  hospital  to  linger  for  months  in  great  suffering  and 
pain,  borne  with  Christian  resignation.  Her  constant  testimony 
was  — 

"  The  love  He  has  kindled  within  me 
Makes  service  or  suffering  sweet." 

One  day  a  visitor  said,  "  Nellie,  you  are  nearing  the  river/' 
"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  I  have  already  stepped  in,  but  God's  word 
says,  '  When  thou  passest  through  the  waters  I  will  be  with 
thee,  and  through  the  rivers  they  shall  not  overflow  thee.' 
The  promise  is  true ;  I  am  dry  shod." 

At  the  last  she  could  scarcely  speak ;  she  knew  her  end  was 
near,  and  when  the  14th  chapter  of  St.  John's  gospel  was  read 
to  her  she  said,  "  My  mansion  is  there,  the  Comforter  is  here ; 
the  promise  is  fulfilled.  Sing  at  my  funeral,  "I  am  going 
home  to  die  no  more." 

Summoned  to  her  bedside,  the  nurse  bent  down  to  hear  her 
faintly  whisper,  "  Jesus,  precious  Jesus."  These  were  her  last 
words,  her  face  lit  up  as  she  seemed  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
better  land,  and,  with  the  name  of  Jesus  on  her  lips  the  spirit 
of  the  once  poor,  despised  Magdalene  took  its  flight  to  the 
bright  mansions  of  whose  possessions  she  had  been  so  sure. 

At  her  funeral  many  Christian  workers  and  friends  gath- 
ered to  do  honor  to  her  remains.    Many  converts  from  the 


NELLIE  CONRpY'S  DEATH.  245 

slums  who  had  been  won  to  Christ  by  her  testimony  were 
among  the  mourners,  and  not  a  few  came  to  look  on  thai  pale 
lace  who  stil]  lived  in  sin  and  shame,  but  who  sincerely  Loved 
one  who  had  so  often  entreated  them  to  turn  and  live. 
On  the  coffin  plate  was  engraved  : 

E   M  

A'j(d  years, 
Died  March  Kirn,  1885. 


The  cities  and  towns  of  almost  every  State  find  representa- 
tives in  this  throng  oi*  wanderers,  and  each  one  means  a  heart- 
break for  some  one  at  home.  The  work  of  the  Florence 
Mission  is  typical.  It  is  simply  a  variation  in  the  form  of  this 
work  that  goes  on  at  the  sister  Mission  on  Greene  Street,  where 
much  the  same  methods  are  used.  Without  the  freedom  at- 
tached to  both,  successful  work  would  be  impossible  in  this 
special  field.  There  are  many  Homes  and  reformatories  where 
a  certain  amount  of  force  enters  in,  but  none  do  just  the  work 
of  these  two.  They  labor  for  women,  but  in  the  evening  meet- 
ings at  the  Florence  Mission  men  are  admitted,  and  the  rules 
of  the  institution  are  much  the  same  as  those  governing  the 
Water  Street  Mission.  Like  that,  also,  one  hears  every  form 
of  testimony,  pathetic,  solemn,  or  grotesque  as  it  may  happen, 
but  all  with  the  same  spirit  of  earnestness.  Let  an  Irish  brother, 
whose  voice  still  lingers  in  my  memory,  and  who  had  tried  all 
depths  of  sin,  have  the  last  word  from  the  Florence  Night 
Mission. 

fc*  A  word  on  this  whiskeys  me  friends.  I  heerd  a  man  say 
whiskey  was  right  enough  in  its  place,  which  place  is  hell,  says 
I.  It  brought  me  down  to  hell's  dure,  an'  I  well  know  what 
it's  loike.  For  twinty-f our  years  I  was  a  tramp;  a  dirty  spal- 
peen of  a  tramp.  The  brother  forninst  me  there  said  God 
found  him  in  his  hotel.  'Twasn't  in  nary  a  hotel  nor  lodgin'- 
house,  nor  yet  a  flat,  the  Lord  found  me  in,  but  in  the  gutther, 
for  I'd  niver  a  roof  to  me  head.    I  came  in  here  cold,  hungry, 


246 


AN  IRISH  BROTHER'S  TESTIMONY. 


an'  wet,  an'  stood  by  the  shtove  to  dhry  meself,  an'  T  heerd 
yees  all  tellin'  an'  tellin',  an'  I  begun  to  pray  meself  thin.  I 
prayed  God  to  help  me,  an'  lie  did.  I  was  talkin'  to  a  naygur 
outside,  an'  he  said  to  me,  says  he,  'I  was  an  Irishman  Like  yer- 
self  in  the  ould  counthry,  but  I  got  black  whin  I  come  to 
Americy.'  Ye  can  laugh  all  ye  loike,  but  I  tell  yees  me  heart 
was  as  black  as  that  naygur  whin  I  come  in  here,  but  it's  white 
now  in  the  blood  o'  the  Lamb.  There'  hope  for  every  wan  o' 
yees  if  there  was  a  ghost  o'  chance  for  me,  an'  you'd  betther 
belave  it." 


Note. — While  this  volume  was  passing  through  the  press  a  proof  of  page 

229  was  sent  by  the  Publishers  to  Mrs.  A.  L.  Prindle,  .Matron  of  the  Florence 

Night  Mission,  with  a  request  to  verify  the  statistics  thereon  given  in  order  to 

ensure  absolute  correctness.    From  her  letter  returning  the  revised  proof  we 

make  the  following  interesting  extract:  — 

"FLORENCE  NIGHT  MISSION. 

"New  York,  April  23,  1891. 

 "At  this  hour,  ten  p.  m.,  word  has  just  been 

received  at  the  Mission  of  a  very  sad  occurrence.  The  woman  at  the  right  in 
the  picture  on  page  229,  whose  head  is  bowed,  whom  I  remember  well  as 
'  Shakespeare,'  a  notorious  outcast,  well  known  in  all  this  region,  was  found 
murdered  this  morning  in  a  cheap  lodging-place  on  Water  Street.  She  fre- 
quently came  to  the  Mission  and  was  present  the  night  you  made  the  flash- 
light picture  of  the  girls  at  lunch,  though  too  intoxicated  to  hold  up  her 
head." 


CHAPXEE  XI. 


GOSPEL  WORK  IN  THE  SLUMS  —  AX  ALL-NIGHT  MISSIONARY'S 
LIFE— A  MIDNIGHT  CURBSTONE  MEETING  — UP  8HINBONE 
ALLEY. 

A  Midnight  Curbstone  Meeting  —  A  Confidence  Game  that  Failed  to  Work 

—  An  Astonished  Thief — "You  Ought  to  be  a  Christian"  —  "Will 
Christ  Pay  my  Kent  ?"  —  A  Midnight  Sermon  —  One  of  the  Devil's 
Family  —  Sowing  Seed  on  Stony  Ground — "If  I'd  only  Stuek  to  Sun- 
day School"  —  Dark  and  Dirty  Pell  Street  —  Five-Cent  Lodging-Houses 

—  Shinbone  Alley  At  Three  o'clock  in  the  Morning  —  A  Typical  Street 
Boy — One  of  the  Gang — "  Snoozin' "  on  a  Beer  Keg  —  A  Suspicious 
Looking  Wagon  —  A  Whispered  Consultation  —  "  Corkey  "  from  "Up 
de  River"  —  Fallen  among  Thieves  —  A  Deep  Laid  Plot — A  Thirsty 
Crowd  of  Desperate  Roughs  —  The  Story  of  the  Cross  and  the  Dying 
Thief  —  A  Speechless  Audience  —  "  De  Fust  to  Preach  Religion  roun' 
dese  Corners"  —  "  Wal,  I'm  Blowed"  —  Caught  by  the  Great  Detective. 

AN  all-night  city  missionary's  life  is  full  of  strange  experi- 
ences. Mr.  Gibbud's  faithful  work  in  this  capacity  was 
unique,  and  from  his  store  of  reminiscences  I  give,  in  his  own 
words,  the  following  interesting  incidents : 

A  Midnight  Curbstone  Meeting. 

Late  one  night  I  was  pleading  with  a  drunken  man  on  the 
Bowery  while  two  friends  stood  waiting  for  me  not  far  olf. 
Suddenly  I  noticed  one  of  a  gang  of  thieves,  who  were  loung- 
ing around  the  door  of  a  low  concert-hall,  leave  his  com- 
panions, approach  my  friends,  and  enter  into  conversation.  I 
left  my  man  and  joined  them.  Seeing  that  I  was  the  leader  of 
the  party,  he  addressed  himself  to  me,  suggesting  that  we  try 
our  hands  at  a  "game."  "My  friend,"  I  said,  "I  know  you 
and  your  confidence  game.  I  should  think  a  man  like  you 
would  want  to  be  in  some  better  business  than  swindling 
people.  It's  mighty  mean  business  —  that  of  a  thief  —  don't 
you  think  so  ?"    At  first  he  was  too  much  astonished  to  do 

(£47) 


248 


A  NIGHT  AUDIENCE  OF  STREET  TOUGHS. 


anything  but  glare  savagely  at  me;  then,  recovering  himself, 
he  acted  as  though  he  was  about  to  spring  upon  me.  1  laid  my 
hand  on  his  arm  and  gently  said :  "  You  ought  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian." 

He  started  back  as  though  struck,  but  quickly  recovered, 
and  said  with  a  sneer  and  in  a  loud  voice:  "  Me  a  Christian? 
Will  Christ  pay  my  rent?    Will  Christ  feed  me  \ " 

"Well,"  I  said,  "I  have  seen  a  good  many  begin  serving 
Christ  without  a  cent  or  even  a  place  to  lay  their  heads, 
and  I  never  knew  one  He  let  go  down  who  was  really  in 
earnest." 

"  But,  see  here,  did  you  ever  see  Christ  \  " 
"  No,  but  I  expect  to  see  Him  ;  I  have  His  word  that  I 
shall." 

Turning  to  his  companions  he  shouted:  "Come  here,  fel- 
lows, and  see  a  chump  who's  got  a  promise  of  seem1  Christ." 

We  were  standing  under  an  electric  light,  it  being  long  past 
midnight.  Quite  a  number  who  were  passing  stopped,  the 
thief s  companions  gathered  around,  and  I  soon  found  myself 
in  the  center  of  a  typical  Bowery  crowd  —  Jew  and  Gentile,  a 
number  of  sporting-men  and  thieves,  two  or  three  fallen 
women,  several,  drunken  men,  and  others  attracted  by  the 
noise,  eager  to  see  what  was  going  on. 

Again  turning  to  his  companions  the  thief  said  in  loud  and 
jeering  tones:  "  Here's  a  fellow  as  is  goin'  to  see  Christ." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  opening  the  Bible,  "I  have  His  word  for  it; 
I  will  read  it  to  you:  6 Beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God; 
and  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be,  but  we  know  that 
when  He  shall  appear  Ave  shall  be  like  Him,  for  we  shall  see 
Him  as  He  is.'  " 

"  Oh,  you're  a  son  of  God,  are  you  P'  lie  exclaimed  con- 
temptuously. 

"Yes,  and  I  have  His  word  for  that,"  reading-  the  Bible 
again;  'As  many  as  received  Ilim  to  them  gave  He  power  to 
become  the  sons  of  God,  even  to  them  that  believe  on  His  name.' 
I  was  once  far  away  from  God,  a  great  sinner,  but  I  believed 
and  received,  and  became  his  child." 


DRIVEN  TO  DESPERATION.  275 

It  I'd  chosen  the  other  thing  while  I'd  a  pretty  face  of"  my 
own.  ['d  'a'  had  ease  and  comfort  an'  a  quick  death.  The  river's 
the  l>est  place  Tin  thinking,  for  them  that  wants  case.  Such 
lite  as  this  isn't  living." 


I.N  A  POOB  SEWING  WOMAN'S  SOME. 


"  She  don't  mean  it,"  the  first  speaker  said  apologetically. 
"  She  knows  there's  better  times  ahead." 

"  Yes,  the  kind  you'll  find  in  the  next  room.  Take  a 
look  in  there,  ma'am,  an'  then  tell  me  what  we're  going  to 
do." 

One  look  into  the  dark  tireless  room  was  enough.  A  pan- 
taloon-maker sat  there,  huddled  in  an  old  shawl,  and  finishing 
the  last  of  a  dozen  which,  when  taken  hack,  would  give  her 
money  for  lire  and  food.    She  had  been  ill  for  three  days. 


LIVES  WITHOUT  HOPE. 


277 


down.  It  is  quite  true.  Convict  labor,  here  as  elsewhere,  is 
the  foe  of  the  earnest  worker,  and  complicates  a  problem  al- 
ready sufficiently  complicated.  There  is  a  constantly  increas- 
ing army  of  scrub  women  who  clean  the  floors  of  offices  and 


A  NIGHT  SCRUB  WOMAN'S  HOME. 


public  buildings  at  night  for  a  pittance,  whose  life  is  of  the 
hardest. 

However  conditions  might  differ,  the  final  word  was  always 
the  same,  and  it  stands  as  the  summary  of  the  life  that  is  lived 
from  day  to  day  by  these  workers,  —  "Never  better;  always 
worse  and  worse."  The  shadow  of  the  great  pier  seems  the 
natural  home  of  these  souls  who  have  forgotten  sunshine  and 
lost  hope  and  faith  in  anything  better  to  come.  It  lingers 
here  and  there.    It  looked  from  the  steady  eyes  of  some  of 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


HOSPITAL  LIFE  IN  N  E  W  YORK  A  TOUR  THROUGH  THE 
WARDS  OF  OLD  BELLEVUE  —  AFFECTING  SCENES  -  THE 
MORGUE  AND  ITS  SILENT  OCCUPANTS. 

Wealth  and  Misery  Side  by  Side — Training  Schools  for  Nurses — A  "  Hurry" 
Call  —  The  Ambulance  Service  —  Prejudice  against  Hospitals  — A  Place 
where  the  Doctors  Cut  up  Folks  Alive  —  Taken  to  the  Dead-House  — 
"  Soon  they  will  be  Cuttin'  him  up"  —  Etherizing  a  Patient  —  A  Painless 
and  Bloodless  Operation  —  A  Patient  Little  Sufferer  —  Ministering  Angels 
—  Cutting  off  a  Leg  in  Fifteen  Seconds — A  Swift  Amputation— Miracu- 
lous Skill  —  Thanking  the  Doctor  for  Hastening  the  End  —  '"Those  Lasl 
Precious,  Painless  Hours"— A  Child's  Idea  of  Heaven—"  Who  Will  .Mind 
the  Baby"  —  Flowers  in  Heaven  —  The  Morgue  —  Its  Silent  Occupants  — 
The  Prisoners'  ('age — Weeping  Friends  —  Searching  for  her  Son  —  An 
Affecting  Meeting  —  She  Knew  her  Own — "Charlie,  Mother  is  Here" — 
"Too  Late,  Too  Late  "  —  A  Pathetic  Scene. 

HPHE  wayfarer  on  Fifth  Avenue  passing  through  miles  of 


1  stately  homes,  fashionable  churches,  great  club  houses, 
and  all  that  exhibits  the  most  lavish  expenditure  of  wealth  for 
personal  enjoyment,  comes  suddenly  upon  a  spot  w  hich  in  an 
instant  recalls  the  fact  that,  under  all  this  pomp  of  external 
life,  suffering  and  want  still  hold  their  place.  Not  a  stone's 
throw  from  the  avenue  and  its  brilliant  life,  one  passes  through 
the  always  open  gates  of  St.  Luke's  Hospital,  under  the  shadow 
of  great  trees  whose  friendly  protecting  branches  are  welcome 
and  greeting  for  all  alike.  Flowers  bloom  here  as  brightly  as 
if  pain  had  no  place.  Impertinent  sparrows  swarm  and  chat- 
ter under  the  eaves,  and,  perching  on  window  sills  or  frames, 
look  in  with  curious  eyes  on  the  long  lines  of  cots. 

Within  are  broad  corridors,  high  ceilings,  and  great  win- 
(lows.  A  Hood  of  sunshine  is  there  and  the  freshest  of  air 
blows  straight  from  the  sea.  A  cleanliness  that  is  spotless; 
quiet,  purity,  efficient  ministration,  form  the  atmosphere  of  this 


(279) 


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282 


A  VICTIM  OF  SUDDEN  ACCIDENT. 


sounding  a  loud  and  incessant  alarm  as  they  gallop  on.  The 
call  has  conic  from  Sixteenth  Street,  and  as  they  turn  the 
corner  a  crowd  is  seen  gathered  about  something  on  the  side- 
walk. Two  or  three  policemen  are  there  trying  to  keep  free 
space  about  the  huddled  heap.  The  driver  slows  up  and  hacks 
the  ambulance  to  the  sidewalk.    Before  this  the  surgeon  has 


THE    AMBULANCE   ROOM    AT   BELLEVUE    HOSPITAL.     ANSWERING  A       HURRY  " 

CALL. 


sprung  out  and  is  bending  over  a  man  who  lies,  there  deathly 
white  but  quite  unconscious,  his  head  in  a  little  pool  of  blood. 

"  It's  out  of  a  third-story  window  he  come  head  foremost," 
one  of  the  policemen  says.  "When  I  got  to  him,  not  a  word 
could  he  say.    It's  dead  he  is,  maybe,  doctor." 

The  surgeon's  quick  and  practised  hands  are  passing  swift- 
ly over  the  prostrate  figure.  He  has  seen  in  a  moment  that 
the  cuts  on  the  head  from  which  the  blood  streams  are  only 
superficial,  but  in  another  moment  he  discovers  that  the  light 
leg  is  broken  and  the  fracture  a  serious  one.  A  temporary 
splint  must  be  put  on  before  he  can  be  moved,  and  it  is 
produced  at  once  from  the  ambulance.    The  man  comes  to 


A  HOSPITAL  PATIENT'S  DAILY  LIFE, 


The  white-capped  nurse  comes  again  shortly  with  some- 
thing in  a  glass,  and  Pat  takes  the  opiate  without  question. 
The  ward  grows  quiet,  for  nighl  has  conic.  Now  and  then 
there  is  a  groan  from  some  cot,  or  the  snore  of  a  sleeping 
patient.    The  nurse  tells  him  the  pain  will  soon  leave  him, 

and  he  looks  at  her  white 
cap  and  admires  it  and 
her  neat  apron,  and  won- 
ders if  she  and  the  others 
are  like  the  Sisters  of 
Charity,  and,  wondering, 
he  falls  asleep  and  knows 
no  more  till  daylight. 

By  the  end  of  the  sec- 
ond day  he  feels  quite  at 
home  and  has  begun  to 
take  an  interest  in  his 
temperature  card.  At  first 
this  puzzles  him,  but  he 
listens  attentively  as  the 
nurse  explains,  and  he 
looks  at  the  card  respect- 
fully. After  this  he  studies 
it  for  himself  from  day  to 
day  and  sees  how  he  is 
gaining.  This  and  the 
three  meals  a  day  are  a 
constant  interest,  and  the  fixed  routine  seems  to  make  the 
time  go  faster.  The  men  on  either  side  of  him  tell  their  stories 
and  listen  to  his. 

He  had  meant  to  resent  the  coming  in  of  the  students,  but 
they  do  no  harm  and  he  is  rather  interested  in  watching  them 
and  seeing  how  pleased  they  are  with  the  way  his  fractured 
bones  are  knitting.  There  are  books  and  papers,  and  as  lie 
mends  he  reads  them.  When  he  is  promoted  to  crutches  and 
takes  his  first  unsteady  steps  on  them,  he  is  as  proud  as  is  a 
mother  of  her  baby's  first  attempt,  and  his  neighbors  in  adjoin- 


A  BELLEVUE  HOSPITAL  NUKSE. 


THE  PRICE  OF  HOSPITAL  TREATMENT. 


393 


partment  at  Bellevue  annually  dispenses  for  use  in  this  hospi- 
tal alone  about  135,000  yards  of  surgical  gauze,  600  pounds  of 
lint,  3,500  pounds  of  absorbent  cotton,  50  bales  of  oakum,  and 
vast  quantities  of  drugs,  including  nearly  1,000  pounds  of 
ether.    In  the  cellar  about  75,000  bottles  are  washed  annually. 

Though  many  are  free,  it  is  the  endeavor  to  make  patients 
pay  where  possible,  though  at  Bellevue  the  highest  charge  is 


IN  ONE  OF  THE  FEMALE  WARDS  AT  BELLEVUE  HOSPITAL. 

only  three  dollars  and  a  half  a  week.  In  the  New  York  Hos- 
pital prices  range  from  seven  to  thirty  dollars  a  week,  and  in 
the  private  rooms  one  may  receive  a  care  impossible  in  any  pri- 
vate house  even  with  a  trained  nurse.  But  the  prejudice 
against  hospitals  as  a  whole  runs  through  all  ranks,  and 
naturally  enough.  The  freedom  of  home;  the  desire  that 
those  who  are  best  loved  maybe  near  one,  and  the  fear  of 
dying  alone,  save  for  hired  attendance,  will  always  deter  the 
great  majority  from  accepting  the  hospital  as  the  best  place  for 
quick  and  effectual  treatment  of  disease. 

For  the  mass  who  have  no  choice  or  who  are  incapable  of 


l'ATIKXT  LITTLE  SI1  KEEKERS. 


395 


Here  are  deformed  little  ones,  some  with  feet  bent  double 
some  with  bodies  set  laterally  from  hips,  twisted,  bent,  held 
up  by  iron  belts  and  trusses  and  all  devices  of  modern 
surgery;  and  here  on  the  roof,  far  remote  from  the  din  of 
streets,  they  play  as  if  sickness  were  not  and  pain  had  been 
forgotten.  Wonderful  cures  go  out  from  here,  and  if  there 
are  not  always  cures,  there  is  always  relief. 


IN  THE  CHILDREN'S  WARD  AT  BELLEVUE  HOSPITAL. 


An  hour  spent  in  the  children's  ward  of  any  great  hospital 
convinces  one  that  for  the  ma  jority,  home  could  offer  nothing 
so  perfect  in  care  and  often  nothing  so  wise  and  tender.  The 
first  entrance  into  such  a  ward  fills  one  with  pity  and  sym- 
pathy that  is  often  heartbreaking.  They  are  so  patient,  these 
suffering  little  ones,  who  obey  implicitly,  and  bear  their  pain 
so  mutely  that  even  the  experienced  doctors  and  nurses  are 
often  moved  to  tears  of  wonder  and  pity.  They  are  easily 
entertained.  A  scrap-book  of  bright  pictures,  a  doll  that  can 
be  hugged  close,  a  toy  or  flower,  are  dear  delights.  Many 


THE  TORMENT  OF  THE  WARD. 


297 


In  the  ordinary  wards  there  is  a  medley  of  cases.  Of  those 
seen  in  a  recent  visit  to  a  children's  ward,  some  were  on 
the  floor  playing,  while  others  watched  them  from  the  spot- 
lessly white  little  beds.  One  small  boy,  who  had  been  beaten 
almost  to  a  jelly  by  a  drunken  father,  howled  at  the  top  of  his 


DISCHARGED.      A  PATIENT  RECEIVING  HER  BUNDLE  OK  CLOTHES  IN  THE  OLD 
CLOTHES  ROOM  AT  RELLEVUE  HOSPITAL. 


lungs  while  his  wounds  were  being  dressed,  and  when  all  was 
over  proceeded  to  torment  every  other  child  in  the  ward. 
There  is  always  one  nuisance  of  this  description,  and  it  compli- 
cates the  nurse's  work  immensely,  lie  was  sent  back  to  bed 
finally,  and  lav  there  kicking  off  the  coverlet  or  winding  it 
aboul  him  till  quieted  by  a  fresh  scrap-book.    Next  to  him  was 


THE  I'NCLAIMKJ)  AND   I  NKNOWN  DEAD. 


30] 


under  the  window.  "That's  father,"  the  child  said;  "he 
conies  home  tipsy  every  night/1  The  nurse  looked  at  the 
little  face,  and  thought  it  was  terrible  thai  t  he  child  should  die 
having  known  nothing  of  this  world  but  its  sin.  She  spoke 
of  God  and  of  heaven,  hut  the  child  could  not  understand. 
Taking  some  violets  from  a  cup  on  the  table,  the  nurse  said, 
"  hook  at  these;  the  flowers  in  heaven  are  more  beautiful  than 
violets."    "Oh,  then  may  I  pick  them?"  said  the  child. 

In  spite  of  the  loving  care  lavished  on  the  little  sufferers, 
and  the  flower-like  way  in  which  those  who  are  getting  over 
their  sufferings  open  to  the  sunshine,  sadness  must  be  the 
dominant  outcome  of  a  walk  through  the  children's  ward, — 
all  the  more  so  if  the  visitor  lias  healthy,  rollicking*  children  of 
his  own  waiting  to  welcome  him  at  home. 

At  the  end  of  the  lawn  at  Bellevue,  close  by  the  river  and 
partly  extending  over  the  water,  is  a  long,  low  building.  It 
is  the  Morgue,  where  lie — often  to  the  number  of  thirty  or 
forty  —  the  unclaimed  and  unknown  dead  in  rough  pine  boxes 
of  the  very  cheapest  description.  At  the  head  of  each  coffin 
is  tacked  a  card  giving  all  the  information  that  is  known  of 
each  case.  Of  those  who  die  in  hospital  it  is  generally  possible 
to  give  the  name,  age,  native  place,  and  date  of  death,  and 
these  items  are  carefully  noted  on  the  card.  It  is  also  stated 
whether  the  person  died  friendless  or  the  body  is  waiting  for 
friends.  But  the  majority  of  the  silent  occupants  of  the 
Morgue  are  unknown.  They  wait  in  vain  for  friends  to 
identify  them,  and  find  rest  at  last  in  nameless  graves  in  the 
Potter's  Field. 

There  is  one  portion  of  Belle vue  seldom  seen  by  the  public, 
and  holding  almost  as  much  tragedy  as  the  Morgue  not  far  be- 
yond. It  is  the  Prisoners'  Ward,  where  are  cells  for  sick  pris- 
oners of  every  order.  Slight  ailments  are  treated  by  police 
surgeons  in  the  various  jails  of  the  city  where  prisoners  happen 
to  be  Lodged.  The  numerous  police  station-houses  also  have 
cells  where  an  army  of  prisoners  is  confined  every  night;  but 
the  Tombs  is  the  great  receiving  center,  over  fifty  thousand 
prisoners  passing  through  it  annually. 


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302 


A  MOTHER'S  LOVE. 


Naturally,  then,  there  are  many  patients,  and  all  critical 
cases  are  removed  to  Bellevue.  Often,  too,  in  attempted  mur- 
der, where  the  murderer  seeks  suicide  as  his  only  way  out,  both 
murderer  and  victim  may  be  taken  here.  Men,  women,  and 
even  children,  who  stab  and  throttle  even  more  than  the  news- 
papers record,  lie  under  guard,  knowing  that  when  recovery 


THE  "CAGE"  Oil  PRISONERS'  WARD  AT  BELLEVUE  HOSPITAL. 


comes  the  law  and  its  course  awaits  them.  Here  come  weeping 
friends,  sadder  even  than  those  who  seek  the  Morgue,  and 
breathe  freer  when  they  find  that  death  lias  ended  the  career 
that  was  disgrace  and  misery  for  both  sinner  and  sinned  against. 

To  one  of  these  cells  there  came  one  morning  a  woman 
bearing  the  usual  permit  to  visit  a  patient.  She  was  a  slender, 
pale  little  woman,  with  the  look  of  delicate  refinement  that  sor- 


AN  AFFF.(TIN(i  MFKTINC;. 


303 


row  had  only  intensified,  and  she  looked  at  the  physician,  who 
was  just  Leaving  the  patient,  with  clear  eves  which  had  wepl 
often,  but  kept  their  steady,  straightforward  gaze. 

"Iam  not  certain,"  she  said.  kk  I  have  searched  for  my  boy 
for  a  long  while,  and  I  think  he  must  be  here.  All  the  clues 
have  led  me  here.    I  want  to  see  him." 

The  doctor  looked  at  her  pitifully  as  she  went  up  to  the  nar- 
row bed  where  the  patient  lay,  a  lad  of  hardly  twenty,  with  his 
face  buried  in  the  pillow.  His  fair  hair,  waving-  crisply  against 
the  skin  browned  by  exposure,  had  not  vet  been  cut,  for  the 
hospital  barber  who  stood  there  had  found  it  so  far  impossible 
to  make  him  turn  his  head. 

k%  He's  lain  that  way  ever  since  they  brought  him  in  yester- 
day," said  the  barber,  and  then,  moved  by  something  in  the 
agitated  face  before  him,  turned  his  own  away.  The  mother, 
for  it  was  quite  plain  who  this  must  be,  stooped  over  the  pros- 
trate figure.  She  knew  it  as  mothers  know  their  own,  and 
laid  her  hand  on  the  burning  head. 

"Charley,"  she  said,  softly,  as  if  she  had  come  into  his  room 
to  rouse  him  from  some  boyish  sleep, — "Mother  is  here." 

A  wild  cry  rang  out  that  startled  even  the  experienced  phy- 
sician. 

"  For  God's  sake  take  her  away  !  She  doesn't  know  what  I 
am.    Take  her  away  !  " 

The  patient  had  started  up,  and  wrung  hands  of  piteous  en- 
treaty. "Take  her  away!"  he  still  cried,  but  the  mother  gently 
folded  her  arms  about  him  and  drewr  his  head  to  her  breast. 

"Oh,  Charlie,  I  have  found  you,"  she  said  through  her  sobs, 
"and  I  will  never  lose  you  again." 

The  lad  looked  at  her  for  a  moment.  His  eyes  were  like 
hers,  large  and  clear,  but  with  the  experience  of  a  thousand 
years  in  their  depths;  a  beautiful,  reckless  face,  with  lines 
graven  by  passion  and  crime.  Then  he  burst  into  weeping  like 
a  child. 

"  It's  too  late!  it's  too  late !  "  he  said  in  tones  almost  inaudi- 
ble. "  I'm  doing  you  the  only  good  turn  I've  done  you,  mother. 
I'm  dying,  and  you  won't  have  to  break  your  heart  over  me 


304 


AN  AGONIZING  SCENE. 


any  more.  It  wasn't  your  fault.  It  was  the  cursed  drink  that 
ruined  me,  blighted  my  life  and  brought  me  here.  It's  murder 
now,  but  the  hangman  won't  have  me,  and  I  shall  save  that 
much  of  disgrace  for  our  name." 

As  he  spoke  he  fell  back  upon  his  pillow  ;  his  face  changed, 
and  the  unmistakable  hue  of  death  suddenly  spread  over  his 
handsome  features.  The  doctor  came  forward  quickly,  a  look 
of  anxious  surprise  on  his  face.  It  was  plain  that  the  end  was 
near. 

"  I  didn't  know  he  was  that  bad,"  the  barber  muttered 
under  his  breath,  as  he  gazed  at  the  lad  holding  still  to  his 
mother's  hand.  The  doctor  lifted  the  patient's  head  and  then 
laid  it  back  softly.    Life  had  fled. 

tk  It  is  better  to  have  it  so,"  he  said  to  himself  in  a  low 
voice,  and  then  stood  silently  and  reverently,  ready  to  offer 
consolation  to  the  bereaved  mother,  whose  face  was  still  hidden 
in  the  boy's  breast.  She  did  not  stir.  Something  in  the 
motionless  attitude  aroused  vague  suspicion  in  the  mind  of  the 
doctor,  and  moved  him  to  bend  forward  and  gently  take  her 
hand.  "With  an  involuntary  start  he  hastily  lifted  the  prostrate 
form,  and  quickly  felt  pulse  and  heart  only  to  find  them  stilled 
forever. 

"  She  is  gone  too,"  he  softly  whispered,  and  the  tears  stood 
in  his  eyes.  "Poor  soul!  It  is  the  best  thing  for  both  of 
them." 

That  is  one  story  of  the  prison  ward  of  Bellevue,  and  there 
are  hundreds  that  might  be  told,  though  never  one  sadder  or 
holding  deeper  tragedy  than  this  one  recorded  here. 


CHAPTEB  XIV. 


FLOWER  MISSIONS  AND  THE  FRESH  AIR  FUND  — THE  DISTRI- 
BUTION OF  FLOWERS  AMONG  THE  SICK  AND  POOR- 
ANECDOTES  AND  INCIDENTS. 

Along  the  River  Front— A  Dangerous  Locality  —  First  Lessons  in  Thiev- 
ing—Headquarters of  River  Pirates— The  Influence  of  Flowers  in  a 
Region  of  Vice  and  Crime  —  Fighting  Bad  Smells  with  Good  Ones  — 
A  Magic  Touch  —  Bud  and  Bloom  in  the  Windows  of  the  Poor  — 
Flowers  and  Plants  in  Tumble-Down  Houses  and  Tenement  Rookeries 
—  Distributing  Flowers  Among  the  Siek  — Flowers  in  Hospitals  —  The 
Story  of  a  Bunch  of  Buttercups  —  Children  Carrying  Flowers  to  Bed 
with  Them— "The  Pansy  Man"  — Taking  Flowers  out  for  a  Walk  — 
Effect  of  Flowers  on  a  Siek  Child  —  The  Story  of  "  Long  Sal  "  and  Her 
Geranium  —  A  Female  Terror  —  Going  out  to  "Catch  Raspberries"  — 
Slum  Children's  First  Week  in  the  Country  —  A  Suspicious  Mother  — 
Rich  Results  from  Two  Dollars  a  Week  —  A  City  Backyard  —  Afraid 
to  Pick  Flowers— "  Ain't  They  God's?" 

TWENTY  years  and  more  of  effort  have  made  a  different 
name  for  one  of  the  most  infamous  regions  of  New  York. 
Corlear's  Hook,  once  unknown  ground  to  all  save  the  police 
and  the  gangs  of  thieves,  murderers,  and  tramps  that  infested 
it,  is  no  longer  the  scene  of  murders  and  other  terrible  crimes 
that  made  it  notorious  a  generation  ago;  but  it  is  still  one  of 
the  most  lawless  regions  in  the  city,  and  the  headquarters  for 
the  most  daring  of  the  river-thieves. 

The  Hook  proper  is  at  the  bend  of  the  East  River.  The 
great  machine-shops  and  storage-warehouses  that  lie  along  its 
front  are  hives  of  industry  by  day,  but  when  night  comes  and 
workmen  and  clerks  have  departed  it  is  a  deserted  region. 
Back  of  these  shops  and  warehouses  lies  a  network  of  narrow 
street  and  lanes,  in  the  squalid  rookeries  of  which  the  thieves 
often  conceal  the  plunder  obtained  in  their  nightly  raids  on  the 
river.    Like  the  Five  Points  it  Avas  for  years  dangerous  to  ven- 

(305) 


BRIGHTENING  THE  HOMES  OF  THE  POOR. 


311 


but  iii- 
would 

degree 
in  her 

From 


of  healing  and  health  does  not  suggest  itself  directly, 
directly  many  a  mother  has  learned  that,  if  plants 
thrive,  sun  and  air  and  water  must  be  had,  and  has  in 
at  least  applied  the  lesson  to  the  little  human  plants 
keeping. 

In  the  general  distribution  all  classes  are  cared  for. 
the  sick  child  in 
hospital  ward  or 
stifling  tenement- 
house,  to  the  sew- 
ing-girl working 
through  the  long 
summer  days  on 
the  heavy  woolen 
garments  that 
must  be  ready  for 
the  Fall  and  Win- 
ter trade,  there  is 
always  the  sorrow 
of  the  poor  and 
the  bitter  want 
that  is  so  often 
part  of  the  trage- 
dy. Not  till  one 
has  seen  how  pale 
faces  light,  and 
thin  hands  stretch 
eagerly  for  this  bit 
of  brightness  and 
comfort  can  there  wrNNEIls  0F  THB  prize,  took  children  carrying 
be  much  realiza-  home  (Wing  plant.. 

tion  of  what  the  Flower  Mission  really  does  and  what  it 
means  to  its  thousands  of  beneficiaries.  The  poorest  know  it 
best.  There  is  a  grim  tenement-house  on  Koosevelt  Street 
where  a  pretty  child,  with  drunken  father  and  hard- working- 
patient  mother,  lay  day  after  day  in  the  exhaustion  of  fever. 
Nothing  could  rouse  him,  and  the  mother  said  sorrowfully, 


CHAPTER  XV. 


\  DAT  IX  \  FREE  DISPENSARY  —  RELIEVING  THE  SUFFERING 
POOR- MISSIONARY  N QRSES  AND  THEIR  WORK  —  A  TOUCH- 
ING STORY. 

From  Hod-Carrying  to  Aldermen  -  Leavening  the  Whole  Lump-A  Great 
Charity -Filthy  but  Thrifty -A  Day  at  the  Eastern  Dispensary- 
Diseases  Springing  from  Want  and  Privation  —  A  Serious  Crowd-Sift- 
ing out  Impostors -The  Children's  Doc  tor  -  Forlorn  Faces  —  A  Doomed 
Family— A  Scene  on  the  Stairs-Young  Roughs  and  Women  with 
Blackened  Eves  —  A  Labor  of  Love-Dread  of  Hospitals- ''They  Cut 
Yon  Open  Before  the  Breath  is  out  of  Your  Body  "-The  Black  Bot- 
tle-Sewing up  a  Body  and  Making  a  Great  Pucker  in  the  Seam  A 
Missionary  Nurse -A  Tale  of  Destitution,  Sickness,  and  Death  A 
•  Pathetic  Appeal  —  A  Starving  Family -Just  in  Time  -  Heartbroken 
-A  Fight  with  Death-"  Work  is  all  I  Want "  A  Merciful  Release 
—  Affecting  Scenes  —  A  Ceaseless  Vigil. 


I 


N  the  lower  wards  of  the  city  is  concentrated  the  strange 
foreign  life  that  gives  New  York  its  title  of  "cosmopoli- 
tan "  ( >ne  might  even  say  that  these  streets  with  their  always 
11,, win-  tide  of  humanity,  a  procession  never  ending  and  never 
ceasing  its  march,  was  simply  the  continuation  of  that  begun 
in  the  middle  ages,  of  which  Michelet  says  that  they  presented 
the  spectacle  only  of  a  vast  funeral  pile,  on  which  mounted 
successively  Jew,  Saracen,  Catholic,  and  Protestant. 

We  do  not  hum  the  people,  but  we  do  stifle  and  poison 
them  in  the  tenement-houses  which  are  the  disgrace  of  the  city. 
In  the  old  days-say  fifty  or  sixty  years  ago  -  these  streets 
were  quiet  shaded  places  tilled  with  the  homes  of  the  well-to- 
do  First  came  the  Irish,  and  the  Americans  fled  before  then. 
Presently  the  new-comers  vacated  the  tenement-houses  for  bet- 
ter quarters  a  little  farther  up.  and  as  they  left  hod-carrying 
iim,  kindred  employments,  and  developed  into  the  rulers  ol  the 
cits-,  they  ascended  still  farther,  till  now  Fifth  Avenue  knows 


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THE  SHADOW  OF  DEATH. 


327 


There  are  shrieks  from  the  dental  room  as  we  pass  out,  but 
they  are  mingled  with  a  laugh,  so  that  one  knows  no  tragedy 
is  going  on.  The  tragedy  is  nearer.  On  the  stairs,  waiting 
for  breath  to  come,  sits  a  little  woman,  with  soft,  dark  eyes, 
and  the  look  of  a  hunted  animal.  By  her  is  a  man,  tall  ami 
gaunt,  with  sombre  black  eyes  burning  in  his  pale  face 
The  woman  nods  to 
the  doctor  as  she 
enters  his  room, 
but  she  cannot 
speak  for  the  mo- 
ment, and  the  man 
looks  at  him  dumb- 
ly, every  feature 
worn  with  pain. 
A  child  presses 
against  him  with 
eyes  like  his  own. 
The  doctor  stops 
for  a  moment,  talks 
with  husband  and 
Avife  in  German, 
and  bids  the  man 
bare  his  back.  Ap- 
plying the  stetho- 
scope he  listens 
intently  to  the 
patient's  breathing, 
then  turns  away. 

"  There  is  little  to  be  done,"  he  says.  "He  is  nearly  gone 
in  consumption,  but  he  does  not  know  it  and  I  shall  not  tell 
him;  his  wife  has  asthma,  as  well  as  every  one  of  the  four 
children.  They  are  hard  workers,  but  down  witli  sickness  half 
the  time,  and  then  they  half  starve,  for  they  tell  no  one  of 
their  condition  till  extremity  is  reached.  The  patience  of 
these  people  has  something  terrible  in  it." 

This  is  the  verdict  of  all  who  woi 

20 


A  HOPELESS  CASE.      EXAMINING  A  PATIENT  S  LUNGS 
WITH  THE  STETHOSCOPE. 


among  this  order  of  the 


CHAPTEE  XIX. 


HEAVENLY  CHARITIES  —  SISTER  IRENE'S  MYSTERIOUS  BASKET 
—  HOMES  FOR  FOUNDLINGS  AND  LITTLE  WAIFS. 

Sister  Irene  —  A  .Modern  Good  Samaritan  —  A  Mysterious  Little  Basket  — Its 
First  Appearance  —  "  What  Can  it  be  for  ?"  — Its  First  Tiny  Occupant  — 
Crouching  in  the  Shadow  — An  Agonizing  Parting  —  Babies  Abandoned 
on  the  Street  —  Broken-Hearted  Mothers  — A  "  Kent-Baby  " —  A  "Run- 
Around." —  How  Sister  Irene's  Basket  Grew  into  a  Six-Story  Building  — 
Fatherless  Children— Babies  of  all  Kinds  — How  the  Record  of  each  Baby 
is  Kept  —  Curious  Requests  for  Children  for  Adoption —  "  Wanted,  a  Nice 
Little  Red-Headed  Boy  "  —  An  Inquiry  for  a  Girl  with  a  "Pretty  Nose" — 
"  Going  to  Meet  Papa  and  Mamma  "  —  The  Sunny  Side  of  the  Work  —  The 
Darker  Side  of  the  Picture  —  Pain  and  Suffering  —  Worn  Little  Faces  — 
The  Babies'  Hospital  —  Free  Cribs  for  Little  Sufferers. 

N  TEAR  Lexington  Avenue,  between  Sixty -eighth  and  Sixty- 


1  i  ninth  Streets,  stands  the  New  York  Foundling  Asylum, 
an  enormous  building  of  simplest  construction,  the  main  portion 
six  stories  high,  with  various  outgrowths,  which  on  examina- 
tion prove  to  be  hospitals  and  other  departments  connected 
with  the  institution.  Possibly  the  visitor  has  come  straight 
from  the  children's  ward  in  St.  Luke's  Hospital,  with  its  many 
free  beds  endowed  by  Sunday-school  classes,  or  by  some  mother 
in  memory  of  her  own  little  ones.  Seeing  the  perfect  care 
given  there,  one  cannot  but  wonder  how  it  fares  with  the 
myriad  other  babies,  who  must  be  part  of  the  misery  that 
abounds  in  the  swarming  tenement-houses  of  both  the  East  and 
West  Sides.  What  is  done  with  the  hundreds  upon  hundreds 
of  motherless  or  worse  than  motherless  little  ones  ? 

It  is  this  Asylum  which  affords  one  answer,  and  which 
twenty-live  years  ago  had  no  existence.  Popular  feeling  was 
strongly  against  foundling  asylums  of  any  order.  Their  need 
had  been  often  discussed  by  charitable  workers,  but  it  was  felt 
in  the  various  churches  to  which  such  work  was  long  confined 

(381) 


382 


SISTER  IRENE'S  MYSTERIOUS  BASKET. 


that  if  crime  were  shielded  it  must  necessarily  increase.  Paris 
with  its  enormous  foundling  asylums  was  pointed  to  as  an 
illustration  of  all  we  should  most  Avish  to  escape,  and  thus  little 
waifs  fared  as  they  could,  room  being  made  for  them  in  homes 
and  asylums  ill  adapted  to  such  use,  and  where  all  such  work 
was  carried  on  at  the  greatest  disadvantage. 

As  usual  in  these  cases,  a  woman  began  the  solution  of  the 
problem.  Its  ethical  bearings  did  not  enter  her  head.  She 
had  long  worked  among  the  poor.  She  knew  what  temptation 
meant,  and  how  often  an  innocent  girl  betrayed  by  a  villain 

needed  the  Support  denied  her  by 
the  Pharisee,  and  even  by  those  who 
wished  to  help  yet  feared  some  com- 
promising quality  in  the  act.  What 
thoughts  went  on  under  Sister  Irene's 
close  black  bonnet  she  does  not  tell. 
It  is  sufficient  to  our  purpose  that 
the  basket  was  bought,  and  that  on 
an  October  morning  in  1869, —  the 
rain  pouring  as  if  to  wash  out  any 
possible  stain  entailed  by  the  act, — 
the  people  in  Twelfth  Street  saw  in 
the  doorway  of  No.  17  a  curious 
little  basket  softly  lined,  and  for  a 
mysterious  purpose  which  nobody 
could  fathom.  Men  looked  at  it  as  they  went  to  business  and 
wondered  if  anybody  had  set  it  down  and  forgotten  to  take  it 
in.  It  was  still  there  when  they  returned  home  at  night,  and 
a  light  gleamed  above  it,  but  its  purpose  was  no  plainer  than 
when  day  dawned  and  found  it  there. 

Far  into  the  night,  when  the  solitary  footsteps  of  an  occa- 
sional pedestrian  echoed  loudly  in  the  silent  street,  a  frightened 
woman  stole  toward  the  open  doorway,  casting  startled  looks 
around  and  behind  her,  and  after  long  crouching  in  the 
shadow  softly  crept  up  the  steps.  Something  held  close  in  her 
arms  went  with  her,  which  she  pressed  to  her  breast  again  and 
again,  and  then  with  a  burst  of  tears  she  laid  it  in  t  he  basket 


THE  MOTHER'S  LAST  KISS. 


AN  AGONIZING  PARTING. 


383 


and  silently  hurried  down  the  steps.  Crouching  again  in  the 
friendly  shadow  she  waited,  her  face  turned  toward  the  door- 
way, till  a  baby's  wail  followed  by  a  sharp  little  cry  was 
heard,  and  she  half  sprung  up  and  stretched  her  arms  toward 
the  basket.  The  door  opened  even  as  the  cry  came.  A  wo- 
man with  a  calm,  gentle  face  stood  for  a  moment,  the  Hood  of 


SISTER   IRENE'S  BASKET   AT   THE   ENTRANCE  TO  THE   NEW  YORK  FOUNDLING 

ASYLUM. 


light  from  the  hall  bringing  out  every  line  of  face  and  figure, 
then  stooped  and  lifted  the  bundle  to  her  shoulder,  pressing 
the  little  face  close  to  her  own.  The  baby  nestled  toher  as 
she  passed  into  the  hall;  the  door  closed,  and  the  woman 
crouching  in  the  darkness  stole  away,  bearing  her  secret  with 
her.  Another  babe  was  found  on  the  stoop  during  the  night, 
in  spite  of  the  rain  that  was  falling  in  torrents.  The  next 
night  came  two  women,  each  with  her  burden,  which  was  laid 


Sister  Irene's  Basket. 


A fine  picture  of  Sister  Irene's  basket  and  the  entrance  to  the  New  York  Foundling 
Asylum.  Mrs.  Campbell  gives  a  most  interesting  account  of  this  little  basket. 
It  has  stood  here  night  and  day,  for  over  twenty  years,  and  in  that  time  more  than 
22,000  babies  have  been  dropped  into  it  by  poor  or  unfortunate  mothers.  A  silent 
watcher  stands  behind  the  door  day  and  night,  and  the  moment  a  baby  is  left  in  the 
basket  and  the  poor  mother  has  departed,  it  is  taken  in  and  cared  for. 


384 


A  HOME  FOR  LITTLE  WAIFS. 


in  the  basket,  and  twice  again  the  door  opened  and  the  black- 
robed  figure  responded  to  the  feeble  cry  that  had  only  to 
sound  to  be  heard.  Out  of  the  cold  and  dark,  into  warmth 
and  light  and  care,  went  each  helpless  tenant  of  the  waiting 
basket,  and  the  news  soon  went  out  that  here  no  questions 
were  asked,  no  demands  were  made,  but  help  and  comfort 
were  always  waiting.  Within  a  month  the  number  of  babies 
reached  forty -five  :  the  house  was  full. 

This  is  the  story  of  Sister  Irene's  little  house  on  Twelfth 
Street,  —  the  first  foundling  asylum  in  the  United  States. 
Never  was  anything  on  smaller  scale.  Often  she  rose  in  the 
morning  utterly  uncertain  as  to  where  the  day's  food  was  to 
come  from,  and  always  before  night  help  came  and  the  work 
went  on.  Doubt  as  one  might  the  wisdom  of  such  undertak- 
ing, there  were  the  babies  and  they  must  be  fed.  Ladies  sent 
in  food,  money,  and  bundles  of  little  garments,  often  from  the 
draAver  where  they  had  been  laid  with  tears,  as  the  bereaved 
mother  folded  them  away  in  memory  of  the  little  one  who  had 
put  on  angel  raiment.  These  bereaved  mothers  took  turns  at 
watching,  preparing  food,  and  all  the  thousand  cares  of  the 
nursery,  and  Sister  Irene  and  her  nuns  did  the  rest. 

Up  to  this  time  infanticide  had  been  common,  and  abandon- 
ment on  the  street  no  less  so.  Twenty  years  ago  scarcely  a 
morning  passed  without  its  being  recorded  in  the  daily  journals 
that  the  body  of  a  new-born  babe  had  been  found  floating  near 
the  docks,  buried  in  an  ash-barrel,  or  flung  into  some  lonely 
area.  Each  day  an  armful  of  little  unfortunates,  picked  up  by 
the  police  on  their  night  beats,  were  carried  to  the  Almshouse 
on  Blackweirs  Island,  to  be  bottle-fed  by  the  aged  paupers, 
rarely  surviving  their  infancy.  There  was  no  place  for  these 
little  Avaifs  in  charitable  institutions,  for  the  charters  did  not 
admit  them ;  and  even  now,  with  a  place  offering  itself,  it  was 
doubtful  if  it  must  not  depend  upon  private  charity  for  support. 
The  matter  came  up  for  consideration,  and  the  city  fathers 
finally  settled  to  pay  a  trifling  amount  per  head  tor  the  babies1 
support. 

This  was  the  beginning,  and  during  the  twenty  years  that 


394 


HOMELESS  LITTLE  ONES. 


the  doctor's  prescription,  and  in  bottles  stopped  with  the  latest 
discovery,  baked  cotton  batting.  Germs  of  disease  being  a 
pari  of  the  air  one  must  breathe  in  cities,  or  indeed  anywhere 
save  on  mountain  tops,  it  becomes  specially  necessary  to  guard 
againsl  them  in  a  hospital;  and  it  has  been  found  that  they 
cannot  penetrate  through  baked  cotton  hatting.    So  baked  it 


THE  LITTLE  WAIFS'  EVENING  PRATER. 


is.  and  these  babies  have  purer  food  than  often  falls  to  the  lot 
of  most  Fifth  A  venue  children. 

There  is  one  scene  that  rjightly  appeals  to  those  in  charge 
of  the  homeless  Little  ones  at  the  Five  Points  House  of  Indus- 
try. It  is  repeated  at  other  points  of  thegreal  city;  wherever, 
indeed,  rise  the  walls  of  a  child's  asylum  or  protectory,  but 
here  in  this  first  and  oldest  of  all  aids  for  the  helpless  ones,  it 
seems  to  have  special  significance  and  most  touching  appeal. 


0  33 

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SD 


"NOW  I  LAY  ME  DOWN  TO  SLEEP." 


397 


Kound  about  the  great  room  with  its  rows  of  little  iron  cots 
covered  with  snowy  white  spreads  —  the  only  home  these1  tiny 
waifs  have  ever  known  —  kneel  the  babies  of  three  years  and 
upwards.  With  folded  hands,  eyes  tight  shut,  or  opening  for  a 
moment's  survey  of  the  others,  the  little  lips  repeat  in  unison 
the  prayer  that  happy  mothers  in  many  a  home  bend  to  hear : 

"Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  keep." 

Be  sure  that  it  is  heard,  and  that  for  each  and  all  of  these 
little  ones,  there  is  watch-  and  ward  in  that  Kingdom,  where 
none  may  enter  save  as  they  become  as  little  children. 

The  new  Training  School  for  children's  nurses,  which  is  in- 
tended to  give  thorough  training  to  all  who  are  to  have  the 
care  of  young  children,  has  four  of  its  students  on  duty  here 
through  the  day,  and  they  may  even  serve  a  term  as  regular 
nurses  after  their  two  years1  course  is  over.  For  this  and  all 
the  other  hospitals  for  children  is  a  type  of  care  impossible 
even  a  few  years  ago.  The  standard  has  risen,  year  by  year, 
till  now  every  appliance  of  science  is  brought  to  bear,  —  even 
the  hospital  for  incurables  furnishing  its  quota  of  experience 
and  suggestion. 

There  are  many  institutions  devoted  to  this  heavenly 
charity.  The  two  I  have  imperfectly  described  are  typical 
forms  in  which  the  passion  for  helpfulness  and  the  saving  of 
life  find  marked  expression.  But  the  city  has  other  charities 
no  less  worthy,  and  the  story  of  any  one  told  in  full  would 
make  a  volume,  each  page  of  which  might  well,  if  praise  were 
in  question,  be  printed  in  letters  of  gold,  and  bound  like  the 
beautiful  missals  of  old,  in  vellum,  jewel  set,  and  with  all  rare 
and  costly  work  of  monkish  pens  and  gravers. 


CHAPTEE  XXII. 

UNDERGROUND  LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK  — CELLAR  AND  SUED 
LODGINGS  —  DENS  OF  THE  VICIOUS  AND  DEPRAVED  — 
STARTLING  SCENES. 

Life  in  Basements  and  Cellars  —  Underground  Lodging  Places  —  Where 
Outcasts  and  Vagrants  Congregate  —  The  Worst  Forms  of  Crime,  Im- 
morality, and  Drunkenness — Sleeping  Over  'Fide  Mud  —  Afloat  in  Their 
Beds  —  A  Visit  to  Casey's  Den  —  A  Rope  for  a  Pillow  —  Packed  Like 
Herrings  —  Pestilential  Places  —  A  Blear-Eyed  Crowd  —  "  Full  "  —  Five 
in  a  Bed  —  "  Thim's  Illiganl  Beds  "  — Sickening  Sights  —  Cellar  Scenes 

—  Rum  Three  Cents  a  Class — "It's  the  Vermin  that's  the  Worst  -'  — 
Standing  up  all  Night  —  Floors  of  Rotten  Boards  —  Dreadful  Surround- 
ings—  Things  that  Creep  and  Bite  —  A  "  Shake-Down  "  —  The  Home 
of  Criminals  and  Beggars — "Three  Cents  a  Spot"  —  A  Five-Cent  Bed 

—  "In  God  we  Trust;  All  Else  is  Cash"  — The  Saloon  and  the  Lodg- 
ing-House  on  Friendly  Terms  —  An  Army  of  Vicious  and  Impecunious 
People  —  Startling  Figures. 

ANIGHT  in  a  police- 
station  lodging-room 
is  one  of  horror.  Imagine 
bare  planks  raised  about 
two  feet  above  the  floor, 
sloping  at  a  slight  angle 
from  the  walls  of  a  room 
about  ten  by  twelve1  feet, 
and  you  have  the  "  lodg- 
ing." Yet  hundreds  of 
men  and  women,  every 
winter's  night,  fight  like 
tigers  for  the  bare  privi- 
lege of  being  allowed  to 
sleep  upon  a  hard  board, 
or  even  to  be  granted  the 
luxury  of  having  a  roof  above  their  heads.    On  one  cold  night 

(420) 


BEGGING  FOR  SHELTER. 


421 


recently  more  than  six  hundred  men  and  women  fought, 
begged,  and  prayed  for  shelter  at  the  various  police  station- 
houses.  In  the  station-house  on  Eldredge  Street  alone,  the 
small,  close,  and  ill-smelling-  rooms  given  up  to  lodgers  were 


room  fifty-three  unfortunates  were  crowded,  many  of  whom 
were  thankful  for  the  privilege  of  standing  up  all  night.  In 
winter  such  scenes  are  witnessed  night  after  night;  and  they 
grow  more  frequent  as  the  years  roll  on.  k*  They  will  not  take 
no  for  an  answer,"  said  the  sergeant.  "  When  I  tell  them  the 
lodging-rooms  are  full  to  suffocation,  they  still  beg  so  hard  to 
be  taken  in  out  of  the  cold  that  I  tell  them  to  go  ahead.  They 
go  inside  and  look,  and  some  of  them  silently  turn  about  and 
go  hack  into  the  street  to  walk  around  all  night,  or  perhaps 
crawl  unobserved  into  a  cellar."  Sometimes  the  crowd  is  so 
great  in  this  station-house  that  the  door  of  the  lodging-room 
cannot  be  closed.  It  is  the  same  story  in  other  police  station- 
houses.    The  figures  differ,  hut  the  conditions  are  the  same. 


\   ROPE  FOB  A  PILLOW. 


4213 


fair  percentage  to  the  owners.  Bui  they  are  seldom  occupied 
by  the  class  one  may  find  on  Water  Street  and  in  its  vicinity. 
For  years  there  was  one  den  at  number  336,  kept  by  a  man 
known  as  Casey,  which  may  serve  as  type  of  all  the  rest.  One 
a  grade  lower,  where  a  rope  stretched  a  few  inches  above  the 


"sitters"  in  the  women's  lodging  room  at  the  police  station-house. 

floor-  served  as  pillow,  and  where  the  men  and  women  packed 
in  like  herrings,  was  swept  away  by  the  clearing  for  the  build- 
ing of  a  warehouse  on  its  site;  but  Casey's  held  its  own  till 
very  recently,  ending  for  the  same  reason,  but  leaving  worthy 
successors  at  more  than  one  point  in  the  Ward. 

Seven  steps  down,  —  the  dingy  walls  of  a  brick  tenement 
rising  above  it,  —  one  came  to  a  much  battered  door,  mended 
here  and  there,  and  bearing  the  marks  of  many  kicks  as  well 
as  of  the  policeman's  club  which  did  duty  as  knocker  in  the 
present  visit.  It  opened  slowly  and  grudgingly,  a  head  of  tan- 
gled hair  appearing  first,  followed  by  the  body  of  a  bedraggled, 
gaunt,  and  blear-eyed  woman,  holding  a  baby  to  her  breast 


424 


MY  VISIT  TO  CASEY'S  DEN. 


with  one  hand,  while  the  other  raised  a  smoky  kerosene  lamp 
high  above  her  head.    She  nodded  sulkily. 

"Full,"  she  said,  and  then  made  way  for  entrance.  The 
room  opened  directly  from  the  steps,  —  fourteen  feet  square, 
and  so  low  that  the  policeman  bent  his  head  as  he  stepped  in. 
At  the  left  was  a  small  bar,  with  a  few  cracked  tumblers,  a 
broken-lipped  pitcher,  and  some  liquor  bottles.  Beyond  it  was 
the  Casey  bed,  occupied  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Casey,  two  sons  of  a 
former  husband,  —  boys  of  ten  and  eleven,  —  and  the  baby. 
Beyond  this  was  another  bed,  and  opening  from  the  room  were 
two  smaller  ones  with  neither  doors  nor  windows  and  rilled 
with  beds  placed  close  to  one  another. 

"  Things  illigant  beds,''  Mrs.  Casey  said,  pointing  to  the 
dirty,  tumble-down  cots,  with  vile  coverings  filthy  beyond 
words.  "  Illigant  beds.  You'll  not  be  findin'  any  so  good  for 
the  money  anywhere  else.1' 

A  glance  was  enough.  By  the  stove  in  the  center  of  the 
room  three  men  were  cooking  their  suppers ;  one  a  red  herring, 
another  some  slices  of  almost  purple  liver,  and  the  last  a  salt 
mackerel.  The  fumes  of  the  cooking,  the  smoke  from  the 
pipes,  —  for  all  were  either  smoking  or  chewing,  —  and  the 
stench  of  the  place  itself,  made  an  air  it  seemed  impossible  that 
human  beings  could  endure  for  a  moment,  and  one  fled  to  the 
surface  without  strength  to  return.  The  best  bed  next  to  the 
Casey's  had  a  man,  wife,  and  child  as  tenants,  and  their  respect- 
able look  showed  it  was  not  a  familiar  experience.  A  day 
later,  at  the  Water  Street  Mission,  the  man  told  his  story. 
He  had  been  sick  in  hospital,  discharged  as  soon  as  able  to 
walk,  and  returned  home  to  the  tenement  on  Cherry  Street,  to 
find  that  his  wife  too  had  been  sick  in  the  mean  time  and  had 
that  day  been  dispossessed  by  the  landlord.  There  was  noth- 
ing to  do  but  try  Casey's. 

"I'd  been  there  before,"  the  man  said,  "when  it  was  worse 
than  it  is  now,  but  I  wouldn't  'a'  thought  of  taking  my  wife 
there  only  we're  Protestants  an'  so  hadn't  many  friends  in  the 
tenement.  Til  sleep  iiv  the  streets  next  time,  or  walk  them 
till  night  is  done.    There  was  fifteen  men  and  women  in  them 


428 


LODGINGS  AT  "  THREE  CENTS  A  SPOT.'' 


tress,  may  be  had  for  five  cents  a  night.    For  the  rest,  the 
bench,  and  the  bare  and  uneven  floor  with  perhaps  a  sprinkling 
of  saw-dust,  are  the  only  places  left,  the  usual  charge  being 
three  cents  a  night  for  the  privilege  of  a  spot  on  either.  The 
dirty  rags  on  the  lodgers'  hacks  are  the  only  bed  and  covering 
they  have.    The  bench  is  a  coveted  place  and  is  quickly  filled. 
A  tallow  candle,  or  more  often  a  smoking  kerosene  lamp,  fur- 
nishes a  feeble  light  by  night.    The  air  is  thick  with  tobacco 
smoke  from  a  dozen  or  more  black  clay  pipes.    Some  of  the 
miserable  inmates  sit  up  all  night  and  are  designated  as  "sit- 
ters"; others  stand  or  move  about  uneasily;  all  catch  such 
sleep  as  the  din  of  frequent  quarrels  and  fights  and  the  noisome 
stencli  will  permit.    Here,  criminals  who  shun  the  light  of  day, 
and  women  of  the  lowest  and  most  degraded  type,  of  all  ages 
and  nationalities,  congregate  at  night,  and  sleep  promiscuously. 
Dissolute  persons  of  both  sexes  skulk  and  loaf  in  these  rooms 
by  day,  and  so  do  thieves  and  burglars  who  meet  here  to  make 
new  plans  and  sally  forth  at  night  to  commit  fresh  crimes.  Old 
scrub  women,  without  homes  or  friends,  who  wearily  tram])  all 
day  looking  for  a  chance  to  scrub  floors  of  offices  or  public 
buildings,  often  take  shelter  for  the  night  in  these  dens.  Street 
girls,  young  in  years,  but  most  of  them  old  in  sin,  in  some  of 
whose  faces  still  linger  traces  of  former  good  looks,  are  often 
driven  by  storms  or  dire  distress  to  spend  a  night  in  these  hor- 
rible lodging  sheds.    Not  unfrequently  homeless  children  creep 
in  unobserved  and  cuddle  down  to  sleep  in  a  corner.  On  a  cold 
or  stormy  night  in  winter  these  rooms  are  filled  to  their  utmost 
capacity. 

A  large  proportion  of  those  who  spend  the  night  in  cheap 
lodging-houses  may  be  set  down  as  criminals  and  beggars, 
others  are  irreclaimable  drunkards,  and  a  few  are  honest  men 
out  of  work,  or  men  who  have  employment  at  starvation  wages. 
Then  there  is  a  small  proportion  of  peddlers  and  in  winter  an 
army  of  tramps;  and  always  a  sprinkling  of  men  who  have 
seen  better  days  but  are  hopelessly  broken  down. 

In  some  resorts  one  can  have  a  cot  or  kk  shake-down  r  in  a 
room  with  other  Lodgers,  the  shake-down  being  a  dirty  narrow 


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432 


PARTNERS  IN  DARK  SCHEMES. 


trust,  all  else  is  cash."  Many  of  these  houses  are  furnished 
with  bunks  arranged  in  tiers  three  or  more  high. 

It  is  a  noticeable  circumstance  that  the  lodging-house  is 
very  often  adjacent  to  a  liquor  saloon,  either  its  next-door 
neighbor  or  directly  above  or  beneath  it.  The  saloon  and  the 
lodging-house  are  on 
friendly  terms ;  sometimes 
they  have  the  same  pro- 
prietors; and  when  they 
are  separately  managed, 


A  "RESERVED"  ROOM  EN   A  LODtilN(i  SHED. 


drunken  men  from  the  saloon  are  taken  at  a  reduced  rate  or  for 
nothing  at  all,  the  lodging-house  keeper  being  recompensed  by 
free  drinks  for  himself  and  his  aids. 

There  are  27<>  lodging-houses  in  New  York  city,  which  con- 
tain 12,317  rooms.    The  number  of  lodgings  furnished  in  L890 


CHAPTER  XXTTT. 


JACK  ASHORE  — AN  EASY  PREY  FOR  LAND-SHARKS  AND 
SHARPERS— LIFE  ON  THE  "ST.  MARY'S "  AND  AT  THE 
SAILORS'  SNUG  HARBOR. 

The  Universal  Love  for  the  Sea — Sailor  Life — A  Talc  of  Shipwreck 
and  Starvation  — An  Unconscious  Hero — An  Old  Sailor's  Story  —  "I 
Smelled  the  Sea  an'  Heard  it"  —  A  Voice  from  the  Waves — ".lack, 
Jack,  You  Ain't  in  your  Right  Place"  —  -lack's  Curious  Character  — 
His  Credulity  and  Simplicity  —  The  Prey  of  Land-Sharks  and  Sharpers 

—  Sailors'  Temptations  —  Dens  of  Robbery  and  Infamy  —  Life  in  Sail- 
ors' Boarding-Houses  —  The  Seamen's  Exchange  —  A  Boy's  Life  on  the 
School  Ship  "St.  Mary's "  — Bethels  and  Seamen's  Homes  —  Life  at  the 
Sailors'  Snug  Harbor  —  A  Sailor-Clergyman — Fried  Fish  for  Eight 
Hundred  —  The  Cripples'  Room  —  "A  Case  of  Pun'  Cussedncss"  — 
Admiral    Farragut    and    Old   Jim  —  Banc   and   Antidote   Side  by  Side 

—  Ending  their  Days  in  Peace  —  How  Jack  Awaits  the  Ebbing  of  the 
Tide. 

LOYE  for  the  sea  is  as  old  as  the  story  of  man,  and  tales  of 
shipwreck  have  fascinated  and  thrilled  adventurous  boys 
from  the  days  of  Homer  to  our  own.  For  English-speaking 
people  it  is  intensified  by  long  usage.  To  be  born  on  an 
island  implies  knowledge  of  how  best  to  get  away  from  it,  and 
this  may  be  one  reason  why  emigration  is  the  natural  instinct 
of  the  English  or  their  'descendants.  In  spite,  too,  of  all 
knowledge  to  the  contrary,  nothing  convinces  the  average  boy 
that  Jack's  life  is  anything  but  a  series  of  marvelous  ad- 
ventures in  which  he  is  generally  victor,  and  where  the  hard- 
ship is  much  more  than  made  up  for  by  the  excitement  and 
the  glory.  Even  Jack  himself  shares  the  delusion,  and  no  mat- 
ter what  peril  the  voyage  lias  held  he  re-ships  with  alacrity,  to 
repeat  the  experience  or  even  to  find  it  his  last.  Sailors'  songs 
are  full  of  the  same  faith. 

"  There's  a  sweet  little  cherub  that  sits  up  aloft 
To  keep  watch  for  the  life  of  poor  Jack  "  — 

(484) 


A  BOY'S  LONGING  FOR  THE  SEA. 


437 


"That's  the  right  kind  of  a  hoy  !"  exclaimed  old  Jack  with  a 
faint  attempt  at  a  hurrah  !  "I  knowed  you  was  the  right  kind 
of  a  boy  the  first  minute  I  set  eyes  on  you.  Of  course  I  want 
to  go  agin,  an1  what's  more  I  shall,  soon  as  this  thing  is  knit 
an'  I'm  set  up  enough  to  pass  muster.  You  come  along  too. 
an'  I'll  make  a  sailor  out  o'  you  fit  to  command  anything  as 
floats." 


BOYS'  SCHOOLROOM   BETWEEN  DECKS  ON  THE  ST.  MARY'S. 


"  I  would  if  I  could,  but  you  see  I  made  up  my  mind  so 
long  ago  to  be  a  doctor  that  T  don't  believe  I  can  change 
it  now.    Ill  think  about  it,"  said  the  boy. 

He  did  "think  about  it,"  to  the  consternation  of  all  his  kin 
and  the  dee])  delight  of  old  Jack,  who,  as  his  arm  mended  and 
strength  came  back,  begged  for  wood  and  evolved  from  it  at 
last  a  full-rigged  brig,  every  rope4  of  which  the  boy  presently 
know.  The  curious  ferment  that  comes  to  the  boy  even  far 
inland  was  working  in  him,  and  to  such  purpose  that  to-day  he 
is  captain  of  a  great  ship  and  happiest  when  in  mid-ocean. 


PART  II. 


BY 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 


STREET  LIFE  — THE  BOWERY  BY  DAY  AND  P,Y  NIGHT  — LIFE 


A  Street  Where  Silence  Never  Reigns  — Where  Poverty  and  Millions 
Touch  Elbows — "Sparrow-Chasers" — Fifth  Avenue  —  The  Home  of 
Wealth  and  Fashion  —  Life  on  the  Bowery  —  Pit  and  Peanuts  — 
Pelted  with  Rotten  Eggs  —  Concert  Halls — Police  Raids  — Dime  Muse- 
ums and  their  Freaks — Fraud  and  Impudence  —  Outcasts  of  the  Bowery 

—  Beer  Gardens — Slums  of  the  Bowery  —  Night  Scenes  on  the  Streets 

—  Pickpockets  and  Crooks  —  Ragpickers  and  their  Foul  Trade — "The 
Black  and  Tan"  —  A  Dangerous  Place — "Makin'  a  Fortin'  "  —  "Razors 
in  the  Air"—  "Keep  yer  Jints  Well  lied "  —  The  Old  Clo'  Shops  of 
Chatham  Street  —  Blarney  and  Cheating. 

V*l KO ADWAY  is  the  artery  through  which  pulsates  a  great 


D  part  of  the  life-blood  of  the  city.  The  crowd  that  con- 
stantly surges  through  it  is  greater  in  numbers  and  steadier  in 
its  How  than  anything  London  or  Paris  can  show,  and  it  mixes 
tip  the  most  dissimilar  elements  of  nationality  and  condition. 
The  night  is  never  so  dark  or  so  stormy  that  the  footfall  of 
pedestrians  and  the  rumbling  of  vehicles  are  altogether  hushed. 
The  life  of  Broadway  varies  greatly  with  the  hours  of  the 


IN  BAXTER  AND  CHATHAM  STREETS. 


(459) 


PART  II. 


PART  II  was  written  by  Col.  Thos.  W.  Knox,  the  famous  author  and  journalist 
who  here  shows  with  startling  emphasis  that  saloons  are  training-schools  of  crime, 
and  that  liquor  is  directly  responsible  for  most  of  the  crime  committed  not  only  in 
the  pest-holes  of  New  York,  but  throughout  the  world  at  large.  If  the  Gospel  and 
Charity  are  the  beacon  lights  of  Mrs.  Campbell's  story, 

Temperance  is  thj.  Key- note  of  Col.  Knot  's  Narrative, 
No  appeal  from  temperance  advocates,  no  sermon  from  ministers,  can  do  more  to 
promote  the  cause  of  temperance  than  the  facts  and  incidents  in  this  volume,  and  all 
temperance  workers  will  rejoice  in  it.  Col  Knox  also  describes  opium- joints,  mock 
auctions,  bogus  horse  sales,  and  numberless  traps  for  the  unwary.  His  humorous 
account  of  beggars,  tramps,  cheats,  humbugs,  and  frauds;  how  skin  games  and 
petty  swindles  are  played,  and  how  confiding  persons  are  deceived  by  rogues,  is 
intensely  interesting. 


RAG-PICKERS  OF  BAXTER  STREET. 


471 


to  them,  scraps  of  old  clothing,  —  anything  and  everything  that 
can  possibly  have  the  least  value  is  taken  in.  Along  the  Bow- 
ery can  occasionally  be  seen  a  rag-picker  from  Baxter  Street 
searching  the  gutters  with  a  lantern  which  he  carries  at  the 
end  of  a  string,  so  that  he  can  hold  it  close  to  the  ground  with- 
out stooping.  This  is  an  idea  borrowed  from  the  chiffonier  of 
Paris,  and  not  at  all  a  bad  one.    Not  a  few  of  the  rag-pickers 

_       _  _   of  New  York  have  gradua- 

,iir,,— ,  .  ^    ;  :     ted  from  the  gutters  of  the 


The  Bowery  has  its  social  divisions  just  as  we  find  them  in 
the  aristocratic  parts  of  the  city.  There  are  race  and  class  dis- 
tinctions, and  there  is  also  the  distinction  of  color  no  less 
marked  than  anywhere  else  in  the  land.  White  men  have 
their  resorts,  and  so  have  the  colored,  and  each  holds  itself 
aloof  from  the  other. 

Not  long  ago  there  was  a  curious  resort  on  Baxter  Street, 
not  far  from  the  Bowery,  from  which  thoroughfare  much  of  its 
patronage  was  drawn,  known  among  white  men  as  "The 
Black  and  Tan,"  which  was  not  altogether  a  safe  place  for  a 
well-dressed  man  to  enter  alone,  especially  at  night.    Off  from 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


TRAINING-SCHOOLS  OF  CRIME  —  DRINK,  THE  HOOT  OF  EVIL 
—  GREAT  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  LIQUOR  TRAFFIC  FOR 
CHIME  — PLAIN  FACTS  AND  STARTLING  STATEMENTS. 

The  Ancestry  of  Crime  — Effects  of  Heredity —  Intemperance  the  Root 
of  Evil  —  Pest-Holes  of  New  York  —  Conceived  in  Sin  and  Born  in 
Iniquity  —  "Where  Criminals  are  Born  and  How  They  are  Bred  —  Parents, 
Children,  and  Geese  Herded  in  a  Filthy  Cellar —Necessity  the  Mother 
of  Crime  — Driven  to  Stealing— The  Petty  Thieving  of  Boys  and  Girls 
—  How  the  Stove  is  Kept  Going  —  Problems  for  Social  Reformers  — 
Dens  of  Thieves  and  Their  Means  of  Escape  — Gangs  and  Their 
Occupations  —  Pawn-Shops  and  "Fences" — Eight  Thousand  Saloons 
to  Four  Hundred  Churches  —  Liquor-Dealers  as  Criminals  —  A  Detec- 
tive's Experience  on  Mott  Street  —  A  Mother's  Plea — A  Cautious 
Countryman  —  An  Unsafe  Place  at  Night  —  A  Child's  First  Lessons  in 
Crime  —  Cheap  Lodging-Houses  —  Foul  Beds  and  Noisy  Nights. 

A  LTHOUGH  social  scientists  have  for  many  years  been  en- 


f~\  deavoring  to  find  means  to  prevent  and  punish  violations 
of  law,  there  is  no  special  organization  in  Xew  York  city  hav- 
ing for  its  object  the  discover}'  of  the  most  prolific  sources  or 
causes  of  crime. 

Mr.  William  Delamater,  who,  in  discharge  of  his  official 
duties  in  connection  with  the  Police  Department,  has  had  ex- 
ceptional opportunity  for  the  study  of  crime  and  its  causes, 
and  to  whom  1  am  indebted  for  much  information  contained  in 
this  chapter,  says  that  crime  may  be  the  effect  of  numerous 
causes  which  multiply  themselves  indefinitely  as  we  go  backward 
in  our  examination  of  them.  It  has  so  many  phases  and  degrees 
that  a  course  of  reasoning  from  a  general  effect  to  a  special 
cause  would  be  unsatisfactory.  The  commission  of  a  murder, 
for  instance,  may  be  the  natural  sequence  of  a  burglary,  the 
Latter  of  a  petty  theft,  which  last  may  come  of  a  desperate 
need  for  the  alleviation  of  hunger  or  the  distress  of  poverty, 


(47G) 


E 


POVERTY,  RAGS,  FILTH,  AND  DARKNESS. 


481 


of  the  city's  population,  and  the  fact  that  the  proportion  of 
arrests  in  this  precinct  is  nearly  double  that  of  any  other  pre- 
cinct, is  a  striking  commentary  upon  the  evils  resultant  upon 
tenement-house  life  and  its  tendency  to  crime.  This  precinct 
contains  a  dense  cosmopolitan  population.  It  abounds  with 
tenement-houses,  good,  bad,  and  indifferent,  —  mostly  bad.  No 
district  of  equal  population  in  the  city  better  illustrates  the 


A  GROUP  AS  FOUND  US'  A  TENEMENT-HOUSE    CELLAR    IN    THE    REAR    OF  MUL- 
ISH I !  1 1 Y  STREET. 


extreme  destitution  and  misery  of  vast  numbers  of  human 
beings  huddled  indiscriminately  together  like  a  mass  of  gar- 
bage, to  ferment  and  decompose  into  off ensiveness ;  and  cer- 
tainly no  district  in  which  intemperance,  pauperism,  and  crime 
prevail  to  so  large  an  extent  ;is  in  this.  In  it  are  bora  and  bred 
a  class  of  beings  whose  immediate  ancestors  were  drunken,  pov- 
erty -stricken,  and  vile,  and  whose  progeny  must  be  paupers 


ACJKNTS  OF  TIIK   I  >K  V  I  L. 


has  ail  important  place.  One  who  has  studied  the  state  of 
affairs  in  the  metropolis  argues  as  follows  to  prove  thai  the 
saloons  and  barrooms  have  the  control  of  the  Local  govern- 
ment :  — 

"Eight  thousand  barrooms  mean  eighl  thousand  proprie- 
tors, eight  thousand  to  twelve  thousand  assistants  (we  will  take 
the  lowest  figures),  which  together  make  sixteen  thousand  votes 
directly  in  the  interest  of  rum.    Every  barroom  can  be  esti- 


IXTEIUOR  OF  A  LOW  GROGGERY  ON  CHERRY  STREET. 


mated  good  for  at  least  live  voters  among  its  regular  patrons, 
or  forty  thousand  in  all.  Add  five  thousand  votes  for  the 
wholesale  dealers  and  their  employes,  whose  business  depends 
wholly  on  the  retail  establishments,  and  this  will  give  a  total 
of  sixty-one  thousand  votes  from  the  liquor  interest. 

"The  beer-saloon  is  first  cousin  to  the  barroom,  if  not  its 
twin  brother.  The  owners,  managers,  and  employes  of  the 
breweries,  and  the  owners,  managers,  and  employes  of  the 
hundreds  of  saloons  and  beer-gardens  throughout  the  city,  com- 


DANGEROUS  AND  NOISY  PLACES. 


497 


the  patrons  —  many  of  whom  are  more  or  less  under  the  in- 
fluence of  liquor  —  are  dangerous  and  noisy,  and  on  frequent 
occasions  the  slumbers  of  all  are  disturbed  by  a  row  that  may 
end  in  murder.  The  proprietor  is  indifferent  to  such  possibili- 
ties, and  if  a  lodger  objects  on  the  ground  that  lie  wants  to 
sleep  he  will  quite  likely  be  met  with  the  argument  on  the 
part  of  the  owner  : 

"  I  sells  you  the  place  fer  sleeping  but  I  don't  sell  the  sleep 
with  it." 

How  true  is  that  striking  passage  from  the  twenty -third 
chapter  of  Proverbs  in  which  the  baneful  effects  of  intemper- 
ance are  vividly  described :  "  Who  hath  woe  ?  who  hath  sor- 
row \  who  hath  contentions  ?  who  hath  babbling  \  who  hath 
wounds  without  cause  ?  who  hath  redness  of  eyes  ?  They  that 
tarry  long  at  the  wine.  At  the  last  it  biteth  like  a  serpent, 
and  stingeth  like  an  adder." 

Shakespeare  makes  even  his  clowns  and  fools  expose  the 
vice  of  intemperance  and  the  degradation  of  drunkards. 

Olivia.  — What's  a  drunken  man  like,  fool  ? 

Clown.  — Like  a  drowned  man,  a  fool,  and  a  madman  ;  one  draught  makes 
him  a  fool,  the  second  mads  him,  and  a  third  drowns  him. 

What  a  sermon,  too,  on  the  blessings  of  temperance,  is 
contained  in  "  As  You  Like  It,"  when  Adam  says  to  his  young 
master :  — 

' '  Let  me  be  your  servant  ! 
Though  I  look  old,  yet  I  am  strong  and  lusty  ; 
For  in  my  youth  I  never  did  apply 
Hot  and  rebellious  liquors  in  my  blood  ; 
Nor  did  not  with  unbashful  forehead  woo 
The  means  of  weakness  and  debility  : 
Therefore  my  age  is  as  a  lusty  winter, 
Frosty,  but  kindly  ;  let  me  go  with  you  : 
I'll  do  the  service  of  a  younger  man 
In  all  your  business  and  necessities." 


CHAPTEE  XXVI. 


THE  POLICE  DEPARTMENT  OF  NEW  YORK  — THE  DETECTIVE 
FORCE  AM)  ITS  WORK  —  SHADOWS  AND  SUA  I M)  WING  — 
SLEUTH-HOUNDS  OF  THE  LAW. 

A  Building  thai  is  Never  Closed  —  Police-Station  Lodgings  — Cutting  his 
Buttons  off  —  A  Dramatic  Scene  —  Teaching  the  Tenderfeet  —  The  Duties 
of  a  Policeman  — Inquiries  tor  Missing  Friends  —  Mysterious  Cases  — 
Clubbing  —Night-Clubs  and  Billies  —  Scattering  a  Mob  —  Calling  for  As- 
sistance—Watching Strangers  — "  Tom  and  Jerry"  in  a  Soup  Plate  — 
The  Harbor  Police  — The  Great  Detective  Force  and  its  Head  — Chief 
Inspector  Thomas  Byrnes  —  Sketch  of  his  Career  —  A  Proud  Record— His 
Knowledge  of  Crooks  and  their  Ways  —  Keeping  Track  of  Thieves  and 
Criminals —  Establishing  a  "Dead  Line  "  in  Wall  Street  — Human  De- 
pravity and  Human  Impudence  —  The  Rogues'  Gallery  —  Shadows  and 
Shadowing  —  Unraveling  Plots — Skillful  Detective  Work  —  Extorting 
the  Truth  —  The  Museum  of  Crime  —  What  May  Be  Seen  There — Disap- 
pearance of  Old  Thieves  —  Rising  Young  Criminals. 

ON  Mulberry  Street  running  through  to  Mott  Street,  in 
a  quarter  of  the  city  that  is  neither  fashionable  nor  at- 
tractive, stands  a  plain  s  >lid  building  of  four  stories  and  a 
basement.  Its  appearance  is  so  ordinary  that  it  would  not  be 
likely  to  attract  special  attention  were  it  not  for  the  blue- 
coated  policemen  that  are  constantly  ascending  and  descending 
the  steps.  This  is  the  police  Headquarters,  the  most  important 
building  of  its  kind  in  America.  Here  are  the  offices  of  the 
Police  Commissioners,  Superintendent,  Inspectors,  Detective 
Bureau,  Health  Department,  etc.  In  the  basement  is  the 
police  telegraph  office,  the  right  arm  of  the  service,  connected 
by  telegraph  with  the  fire  department  headquarters,  Brooklyn 
police  headquarters,  all  elevated  railroads,  all  the  leading  hos- 
pitals, the  prisons,  the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to 
Children,  and  many  other  institutions.  Anything  of  import- 
ance that  is  taking  place  at  the  farthest  police  point  of  the  city 

(498) 


500 


THE  POLICE  DEPARTMENT  OF  NEW  YORK. 


these  in  turn  are  divided  by  the  captains  into  patrol  beats  or 
posts  for  the  Patrolmen. 

The  control  of  the  police  is  vested  in  four  Commissioners, 
known  as  the  Board  of  Police,  who  are  appointed  by  the  mayor 
for  six  years.  One  of  them  acts  as  president  of  the  Board;  he 
lias  the  special  duty  of  examining  all  charges  against  policemen 
before  they  are  tried,  and  all  important  letters  coming  from 
police  authorities  all  over  the  world  are  referred  to  him  for  an- 


of  the  force  is  the  superintendent.  His  duties  are  arduous,  and  his 
position  one  of  great  responsibility.  He  issues  orders  received 
from  the  commissioners,  takes  command  at  riots  or  great  fires, 
and  perforins  duties  generally  devolving  upon  a  superior  com- 
manding officer.  Then  come  the  inspectors,  of  whom  there  are 
four,  one  of  whom  is  Chief  Inspector  in  charge  of  the  Detective 
Bureau,  and  in  the  absence  of  the  superintendent  acts  as  Chief  of 
Police.    Each  of  the  three  remaining  inspectors  has  charge  of 


swer.  Another  commissioner  is 
chairman  of  the  Board  of  Trus- 
tees of  the  Police  Pension  Fund, 
and  a  good  part  of  his  time  is 
spent  in  investigating  claims  upon 
the  Fund,  especially  those  of  the 
widows  and  orphans  of  policemen 
who  have  died  in  the  service.  An- 


other commissioner  is 
Treasurer  of  the  Police 
Board  and  also  of  the  Pen- 
sion Fund,  and  the  fourth 
on  the  list  has  general  over- 
sight of  the  station-houses 
and  is  chairman  of  the 
Committee  on  Supplies, 
and  has  charge  of  all  pur- 
chases pertaining  to  this 
department. 


POLICE  HEADQUARTERS  BUILDING. 


Next  to  the  commis- 
sioners the  highest  officer 


c\m.\<;  FOR  LOST  CHILDREN. 


r>()!) 


Night  and  day,  rain  or  shine,  when  liis  tour  of  duty  lupins 
he  must  go  on  his  post  and  he  prepared  to  meet  nil  kinds  of 
danger.  He  may  encounter  stealthy  sneak  thieves,  red-handed 
murderers,  and  lurking  and  desperate  foes  of  nil  kinds  ;  and  he 
must  he  ever  ready  to  subdue  gangs  of  noisy  and  refractory 
brawlers  in  tough  resorts.  When  patrolling  his  bent  nt  night 
he  must  see  that  no  aperture  through  which  a  thief  could  enter 
is  left  open  or  insecure.  He  must  have  an  eye  to  windows, 
doors,  gratings,  and  coal-chutes.  On  an  average  about  twenty- 
six  hundred  buildings  annually  are  carelessly  left  open  at  the 
close  of  business  by  clerks  or  owners,  and  on  the  list  are  promi- 
nent banks,  churches,  and  hundreds  of  stores.  While  at  his 
post  he  may  be  called  upon  to  answer  all  sorts  of  questions, 
give  advice,  make  arrests,  aid  the  sick  and  injured,  quell 
drunken  and  riotous  brawls,  and  he  should  be  constantly  on 
the  alert  to  discover  fires,  burglars,  and  property  in  peril  in 
any  way.  He  must  take  lost  children  to  the  Matron's  room  at 
police  headquarters,  often  buying  them  dainties  on  the  way 
to  keep  them  in  good  humor.  There  is  no  part  of  the  duties 
of  a  policeman  which  calls  forth  so  much  sympathy  as  does 
the  discovery  and  care  of  a  lost  child,  and  yet  he  would  rather 
tackle  a  man  twice  his  size  than  carry  a  little,  dirty,  tearful, 
rebellious,  or  frightened  youngster  to  headquarters. 

More  than  3,000  lost  children  are  annually  found  in  the 
streets  of  New  York.  If  the  child's  name  can  be  ascertained, 
it  is  entered,  along  with  other  particulars,  in  a  book  kept  for 
this  purpose.  If  the  name  and  address  cannot  be  ascertained, 
an  accurate  description  of  person  and  clothing  is  recorded,  and 
the  same  is  telegraphed  to  all  stations.  By  this  means  lost 
children  are  restored  to  their  homes  in  a  very  short  time,  leav- 
ing but  a  small  number  unclaimed. 

Communications  are  constantly  being  received  from  all 
parts  of  the  world,  requesting  information  of  friends  and  rela- 
tives who  have  not  been  seen  or  heard  of  for  periods  extending 
from  one  month  to  thirty  years.  The  greatest  attention  is  given 
to  all  these  cases.  Officers  are  sent  to  the  localities  where  such 
missing  persons  have  resided,  and  old  residents  are  interviewed, 


510  MYSTERIOUS  CASES  AND  MISSING  PERSONS. 

thus  often  obtaining  correct  and  accurate  information.  Often- 
times it  transpires  that  the  persons  inquired  for  are  dead,  in 
which  cases  death  certificates  are  procured  and  forwarded  to 
the  inquirer. 

Very  mysterious  circumstances  often  surround  these  cases. 
When  an  inquiry  for  a  missing  person  is  received,  the  records  of 


MEETING  PLACE  OF  TELEGRAPH  WIRES  AT  POLICE   HEADQUARTERS  COMMUNI- 
CATING WITH  ALL  PARTS  OF  THE  WORLD. 

the  Department  relating  to  persons  arrested  or  sent  to  hospi- 
tals, sick  or  injured,  are  carefully  consulted ;  and  if  the  desired 
information  cannot  be  obtained  from  this  source,  an  accurate 
description  of  the  missing  person  is  recorded  in  a  book  kept  for 
this  purpose,  and  the  members  of  the  department  are  notified 
of  the  same  by  telegraph.  An  officer  is  detailed  for  duty  at  the 
Morgue,  and  it  is  his  place  to  make  a  daily  report  to  headquar- 
ters, giving  an  accurate  description  of  all  unclaimed  dead  bod- 
ies, which  report  is  kept  in  a  book.  In  all  cases  the  record  of 
missing  persons  is  consulted  to  ascertain  it'  any  resemblance 
exists  between  the  description  of  such  dead  body  and  any  miss- 


LITTLE  FOUNDLINGS  AND  STREET  WAIFS. 


coming  within  the  view  and  hearing  of  the  officer.  Intoxi- 
cated persons  are  not  disturbed  as  long  as  they  conduct  them- 
selves quietly;  they  arc  ordered  "to  move  on"  and  "keep 
moving"  and  as  long  as  they  do  tin's  and  are  not  noisy  they 
are  sale  from  arrest. 

Although  two  hundred  or  more  foundlings  and  upwards  of 
one  hundred  dead  infants  are  taken  charge  of  by  the  police 
every  year,  it  is  well-known  that  these  arc  but  a  few  of  the 
actual  number  annually  abandoned  by  poverty-stricken  and 
unnatural  mothers.  The  foundlings  are  of  all  ages  from  the 
little  mite  a  few  hours  old  to  the  baby  of  one  or  two  years. 
Most  of  them  are  discovered  after  dark,  on  the  streets,  in  dark- 
alleys  or  hallways,  and  not  infrequently  on  somebody's  door- 
step. They  are  generally  found  laid  away  in  baskets  or  boxes 
partially  rilled  with  old  clothes  or  cotton;  some  are  wrapped 
in  nothing  but  newspapers,  while  others  are  entirely  naked. 
Occasionally  one  is  found  whose  fine  garments  indicate  that 
its  parents  do  not  belong  to  the  poor  classes. 

When  a  policeman  finds  an  abandoned  infant  he  at  once 
takes  it  to  the  station-house  of  his  precinct,  where  an  accurate 
description  of  the  babe  and  its  clothing  is  carefully  recorded  in 
a  book  kept  for  that  purpose,  with  the  name  of  the  officer 
finding  the  same,  where  found,  under  what  circumstances,  and 
any  other  tacts  which  may  be  of  interest  or  which  may  lead  • 
to  the  discovery  of  the  parents  of  the  child.  The  infant  is 
then  sent  to  the  Matron  of  the  lost  children's  room  at  Police 
Headquarters  for  temporary  care,  and  by  her  is  sent,  with  a 
statement  of  all  the  facts  in  the  case,  to  the  Infant's  Hospital 
on  Randall's  Island,  or  to  some  protectory.  Many  of  these 
unfortunate  little  ones  are  taken  into  asylums  and  institutions 
founded  for  the  special  purpose  of  caring  for  them;  some  are 
adopted  into  families,  and  a  few  are  sent  into  the  country. 

It  is  very  difficult  to  discover  the  perpetrators  of  this 
crime,  and  still  more  so  to  secure  the  arrest  and  conviction  of 
the  offenders.  There  is  usually  an  organized  conspiracy  in 
each  case  to  keep  secret  every  detail  and  circumstance  that 
would  lead  to  the  discovery  of  the  unfortunate  mother. 


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522 


A  BUSINESS  SHROUDED  IN  MYSTERY. 


successfully.  And  no  man  to  this  day  knows  just  how  the  theft 
was  committed  nor  who  was  the  thief. 

Inspector  Byrnes  is  earnestly  devoted  to  his  work.  Only 
recently  he  said :  "  My  business  is  never  spoken  of  at  home. 
Men  say  they  leave  the  shop  when  the  door  is  closed  and  think 
no  more  about  work  till  next  morning.  That  is  not  the  truth. 
The  man  whose  heart  and  soul  is  in  his  work  never  lets  it  wholly 
escape.  I  do  not  dream  of  my  work,  but  I  go  to  bed  and  lie 
there  for  hours  studying  a  case.  When  I  get  a  clue  I  go  to 
sleep  and  follow  it  up  the  next  day.  If  it  is  one  on  which  I 
have  failed  for  the  tenth  time,  I  review  each  mistake  and  out 
of  the  corrections  evolve  the  eleventh. 

"  During  the  day  I  am  generally  here,  and  every  night  is 
filled  with  engagements.  Sunday  I  am  here  at  salvation  work. 
In  other  words,  I  clean  house.  Six  days  of  every  week  bring 
me  personal  letters  from  people  in  every  walk  of  life.  Some  of 
them  are  curious,  all  are  interesting,  and  each  is  a  clue  to  a 
mystery.  Here  and  there  is  a  sheet  of  notepaper  from  which  a 
crest  has  been  scraped  or  cut,  and  quite  as  often  a  letter-head, 
carefully  decapitated.  If  anything  happened  to  me  and  these 
letters  should  fall  into  strangers1  hands,  there  might  be  trouble. 
It  is  only  fair  to  the  people  who  trust  me  that  I  protect  them, 
and  so  every  Sunday  morning  I  unlock  this  desk,  carefully  look 
over  the  week's  mail  and  destroy  letters,  the  publication  of 
which  would  blight  innocent  lives,  break  up  families,  do  vio- 
lence to  individual  welfare,  and  shock  society." 

As  he  spoke  the  Inspector  unlocked  the  little  desk,  the 
table-  and  pigeon-holes  of  which  were  piled  and  packed  with 
the  reputations  of  men  and  women,  families  and  firms. 

"  Do  you  like  your  life  ? "  was  asked. 

"Immensely.  There  is  a  fascination  about  a  mystery  that 
human  nature  cannot  resist.  My  business  is  shrouded  in  mys- 
tery, and  the  more  difficult  it  is  to  unravel  the  harder  I  work. 
There  is  no  satisfaction,  no  glory,  no  growth  in  doing  the 
thing  that  is  easy  enough  for  anybody  to  do." 

"Do  you  see  many  tears?" 

"Oceans  of  them.    Some  break  my  heart,  some  annoy  me. 


CHAPTER  XXYTT. 


FIRE!    FIRE!  — THE  LIFE  OF  A  NEW  YORK  FIREMAN  — THE 
SCHOOL  OF  INSTRUCTION  AND  THE  LIFE-SAVING  CORPS. 

The  Volunteer  Fire  Department  of  ye  Olden  Time  —  How  Barnum's  Show 
W  as  Interrupted  —  A  Comical  Incident  —  Indians  and  Red  Coats  at  a  Fire 
—  The  Bowery  B'lioys  —  Soap-Locks  —  The  School  of  Instruction  and  the 
Life-Saving  Corps— Daily  Drill  in  the  Use  of  Life-Saving  Appliances — 
Wonderful  Feats  on  the  Scaling- Ladder  —  The  Jumping-Net  —  Thrilling 
Scenes  and  Incidents  —  The  Life-Line  Gun  —  Fire -Department  Horses  — 
Their  Training  —  A  Hospital  for  Sick  and  Injured  Horses  —  A  Night  Visit 
to  an  Engine-House  —  Keeping  up  Steam  —  Automatic  Apparatus  —  How 
Firemen  Sleep — Sliding  Down  the  Pole  —  The  Alarm  —  Fire!  Fire!  — 
A  Quick  Turn-Out  —  Intelligent  Horses  —  The  Fire-Alarm  System  — 
Answering  an  Alarm  in  Seven  Seconds  —  A  Thrilling  Sight  —  Fire-Boats 
and  their  Work  —  Signal-Boxes  and  How  they  are  Used  —  The  Perils  of 
a  Fireman's  Life. 

IT  is  nearly  a  century  since  the  authorities  of  ~Ne\v  York  or- 
ganized a  department  whose  special  duty  it  was  to  ex- 
tinguish fires.  Before  that  time  the  fire  service,  such  as  it  was, 
was  in  the  hands  of  the  police,  who  had  a  distinct  branch  for 
the  "  viewing  and  searching  of  chimneys  "  and  also  for  the  use 
of  hooks,  ladders,  and  buckets.  Every  house  having  two  chim- 
neys was  compelled  to  have  one  bucket  at  the  expense  of  the 
owner,  and  every  house  with  more  than  two  chimneys  Avas  re- 
quired to  have  two  buckets,  while  all  brewers  and  bakers  were 
to  have  six  buckets  each,  under  penalty  of  a  fine  of  six  shillings 
for  every  bucket  wanting. 

From  this  crude  beginning  grew  the  old  fire  department  of 
New  York,  which  was  a  most  excellent  institution  for  the 
greater  part  of  its  existence.  In  its  early  days  all  the  best 
young  men  of  the  city  belonged  to  it,  and  the  engines  were 
kept  in  or  near  the  City  Hall,  which  was  a  very  convenient  lo- 
cation.   That  the  rules  were  more  rigid  than  in  later  times 

(MO) 


JUMFING  FOR  LIFE. 


533 


floor  aad  prevented  further  descent  by  the  ladder.  In  the 
mean  time  the  hook-and-ladder  company  had  arrived,  but  as  it 
was  impossible  to  make  use  of  its  extension-ladder  in  time,  the 
life-saving  net  was  resorted  to,  being  held  by  the  few  available 


"','/. :  ~  -  _5§? \U\  l.i  ii'  i  ■ 


THE  JUMPING  OR  LIFE-SAVING  NET. 

firemen  aided  by  a  number  of  citizens.  After  the  sister,  who 
had  been  compelled  to  remain  on  the  fifth  floor,  and  her 
brothers  on  the  fourth  floor,  had,  under  the  fireman's  direction, 
successfully  jumped  and  been  safely  caught  in  the  net,  the  fire- 
man also  jumped,  and,  although  caught  in  the  net,  he  unfor- 
tunately bounded  out  of  it  and  fell  upon  the  pavement,  sus- 
taining severe  injuries.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  lives 
of  all  four  would  have  been  lost  but  for  the  prompt  use  of  the 
life-saving  net. 

The  life-line  gun  or  carbine  throws  a  projectile  to  wdiich  a 
cord  is  attached,  Avith  which  the  endangered  person  can  haul 
up  the  stout  life-line  tied  to  it. 

The  general  effect  upon  the  firemen  of  a  system  of  train- 
ing at  the  School  of  Instruction  has  unquestionably  been  to  bet- 
ter fit  them  for  the  performance  of  their  ordinary  duties  and 
to  quality  them  to  meet  almost  any  emergency.  One  of  the 
prerequisites  to  admission  in  the  force  is  a  probationary  service 
of  one  month,  largely  devoted  to  drill  in  the  school  of  the 


534 


THE  LIFE  LINE  AND  THE  DUMMY. 


THE  LIFE-LINE  GUN. 


Life-saving  Corps.    A  few  of  the  recruits  take  to  it  quickly 

and  naturally;  the  majority,  however, 
acquire    proficiency   gradually,  while 
only  a  very  small  proportion  are  found 
disqualified.     By  degrees  the  recruits 
are  made  to  scale  story  after  story,  to 
use  the  Life-line,  to  man  the  jumping- 
net  while  a  (lummy  is  thrown  from  a 
tilth  or   sixth-story   window,  to  take 
the  part  of  the  rescued  and  of  the  res- 
cuer, until  the  end  of  the  probationary 
period  finds  him  either  a  qualified  lite- 
saver  or  he  is  dropped  Prom  the  rolls. 
If  the  first,  he  is  thereupon  permanently 
appointed,  provided  the  service  he  has 
also  been  required  to  perform  in  a  com- 
pany lias  been  found  acceptable. 
The  horses  used  in  the  department  are  Large,  handsome  crea- 
tures, selected  with  great  care,  and  their  training  is  as  care- 
fully looked  after  as  that  of  the  men  who 
have  them  in  charge.    The  Hospital  and 
Training  School  is  in  an  appropriate  build- 
ing erected  for  the  purpose,  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  city.    Here  is  a  large  room  on 
the  ground  floor,  fitted  up  like  the  ap- 
paratus-floor of   an   engine-house,  with 
engine,  stalls,  hanging  harness,  telegraph 
signal-gong,  sliding  poles,  etc.,  and  new 
horses  are  thoroughly  educated  in  their 
duties  before  they  are  distributed  to  the 
engine-houses.    These  horses  are  all  fresh 
from  the  country,  from  four  and  a  half  to 
six  years  old,  and  of  course  entirely  untu- 
tored.   The  tii'st  step  in  the  instruction, 
and  generally  the  most  difficult  one.  is  to 
accustom  the  horse  to  getting  under  and  into  the  harness  and 
hinged  collar.    To  accomplish  this  it  is  often  necessary  to  have 


THE  DI  M  M  V 


HOW  THE  HORSES  ARE  TRAINED. 


535 


one  of  the  men  precede  the  animal  and  place  his  own  head  in 
the  collar.  When  the  horse's  natural  dread  has  been  allayed  in 

this  manner,  he  is  next  harnessed  and 
hitched  up  at  the  sound  of  the  signal 
on  the  gronff.  This  he  must  learn  to 
do  quickly  and  without  the  least  hes- 
itation, and  to  teach  it  properly  re- 
quires great  tact  and  experience  on 
the  part  of  the  trainers.  At  the  first 
stroke  of  the  gong  the  horse  is  led 
and  guided  to  his  place  under  the 
harness  by  one  man,  and  driven  from 
behind  by  another,  whose  voice,  and 
hand,  if  necessary,  both  urge  him 
forward;  the  collar  is  pulled  down 
and  snapped  around  his  neck,  the 
harness  is  let  down  upon  him,  the 
reins  are  snapped,  and  the  wide  street 
doors  slide  open.  This  is  repeated 
as  often  as  may  be  found  necessary, 
great  care  being  taken  to  handle 
the  animal  as  gently  as  practicable, 
and  to  avoid  making  him  timid  or 
injuring  him  in  any  way.  The  final 
instruction  consists  in  driving  the 
horse  out  of  the 
stable  as  if  re- 
sponding to  an  ac- 
tual alarm.  Occa- 
sionally a  horse  is 
found  deficient  in 
intelligence  or  too 
nervous,  but  more 
frequently  they 
develop  physical  faults.  In  either  case  the  horse  is  at  once  re- 
turned to  the  dealer,  who  supplied  it  on  trial.  There  is,  how- 
ever, another  test  to  which  a  horse  who  proves,  satisfactory  at 


LIFE-SAVING  NET  DRILL 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


THE  CHINESE  QUARTER  OF  NEW  YORK— BEHIND  THE  SCENES 
IN  CHINATOWN— "JOHN''  AND  HIS  CURIOUS  WAYS  — A 
NIGHT  VISIT  TO  AN  OPIUM  JOINT. 

The  Chinese  Junk  " Key- Yin g"  —  The  Heart  of  the  Chinese  Community  in 
New  York  —  A  Race  of  Gamblers  —  A  Trip  through  Chinatown  with 
a  Detective  —  A  Raid  on  a  Gambling-House  —  Spotting  the  Players  —  The 
Opium  Habit  — A  Chinese  Drugstore  —  Marvelous  Remedies  —  A  Won- 
derful Bill  of  Fare  —  A  Visit  to  a  Joss-House  —  An  Opium  Smoker's 
•'  Lay-Out  "  —  The  Value  of  an  Opium  Pipe — A  Night  Visit  to  an  Opium 
Joint — Carefully-Guarded  Doors  —  How  Admission  is  Gained  —  The 
Peep-Hole  —  Cunning  Celestials  —  Scenes  in  the  Smoking-Koom — Victims 
of  the  Opium  Habit  —  First  Experiences  at  Hitting  the  Pipe  —  A  Terrible 
Longing  —  A  Woman's  Experience  — White  Opium  Fiends  —  Sickening 
Scenes — Aristocratic  Smokers  —  Cost  of  Opium  —  Spread  of  the  Opium 
Habit  —  Solitary  Indulgence  in  the  Vice  —  Swift  and  Certain  Death  the 
Result. 

ABOUT  half  a  century  ago  a  curious  craft  arrived  one  day 
at  New  York,  having  sailed  all  the  way  from  China.  It 
was  the  Chinese  junk  "  Key-Ying,"  and  she  had  been  a  long 
time  on  the  way,  having  visited  London  en  route. 

The  "Key-Ying"  Avas  a  speculation  on  the  part  of  some 
foreigners  in  Far  Cathay.  They  had  decided  that  there  was 
money  in  building  a  junk  and  sending  her  to  distant  parts  of 
the  world  as  a  show ;  she  was  fitted  up  as  a  Chinese  museum, 
and  had  stalls  all  around  her  decks,  where  Chinese  artisans 
were  working  at  their  various  trades.  She  was  a  profitable  en- 
terprise, as  crowds  came  daily  to  see  her,  and  the  money  made 
from  the  exhibition  was  the  foundation  of  a  commercial  house 
that  still  exists  at  Hong  Kong,  with  branches  .in  several  ports 
of  the  far  East. 

But  one  unhappy  day  she  took  fire  in  the  harbor  of  New 
York  and  was  burned  1<>  the  water's  edge.  As  a  show  she  was 
no  longer  of  any  use,  neither  could  she  serve  as  a  place  of  resi- 

(549) 


OPIUM  SMOKERS  IN  THEIR  HAUNTS. 


567 


On  one  side  of  the  room  was  a  little  alcove  like  a  ticket- 
office;  it  was  occupied  by  the  proprietor,  and  just  as  Ave  entered 
the  place  he  was  weighing  out  a  charge  of  opium  with  some 
tiny  scales  like  the  smallest  of  those  used  by  druggists.  Sev- 
eral trays  were  piled  at  one  side  of  the  counter,  and  there  were 
a  dozen  or  more  fairy  lamps  on  a  shelf  together  with  the  other 
implements  that  make  up  a  lay-out. 

Farther  along  was  a  curtain  which  hung  over  the  entrance 


"hitting  the  pipe."    scene  in  an  opium  den  on  mott  stkeet. 

of  the  smoking-room.  We  waited  till  the  proprietor  had  made 
the  tray  ready  for  a  customer  and  then  followed  him  into  the 
inner  room.  The  pungent  odor  increased  as  we  passed  the 
thick  curtain,  which  was  drawn  aside  for  us,  and  we  found  our- 
selves in  a  room  about  thirty  feet  long  by  twelve  in  width.  It 
was  dimly  lighted,  and  there  were  several  strata  of  smoke  that 
did  not  exactly  resemble  any  smoke  ordinarily  seen  in  rooms. 
All  around  the  sides  and  ends  of  the  room  were  platforms  or 
bunks,  about  two  feet  high  and  covered  with  Chinese  matting. 
A  few  have  mattresses  instead  of  matting,  out  of  deference 
to  American  tastes.    The  Chinese  smoker  considers  a  board 


A  VICE  THAT  CLINGS  TO  ITS  VICTIMS. 


51  I 


wide.  The  can  is  only  half  rilled,  as  in  warm  weather  it  puffs 
up  and  would  overflow  if  allowance  was  not  made  for  this 
swelling.  It  is  about  the  consistency  of  tar  melted  in  the  sun, 
and  nearly  the  same  color.  The  mode  of  measuring  it,  when 
selling,  is  by  a  Chinese  weight  called  fune.  There  are,  about 
eighty-three  flme  in  an  ounce,  and  a  can  contains  four  hundred 
and  fifteen  fiine,  or  about  five  ounces.    The  best  quality  of 


A  SLY  OPIUM  SMOKER. 

( This  photograph  was  made  hy  flash-light  in  a  Chinese  opium  den  on  Pell  street  when  the 
smoker  was  supposed  to  be  fast  asleep.  Subsequently  the  photograph  disclosed  the  fact  that  he 
had  at  least  one  eye  open  when  the  picture  was  made.) 

this  sells  for  eight  dollars  and  twenty-five  cents  a  can,  and  in- 
ferior grades  run  as  low  as  six  dollars.  In  smaller  quantities 
eight  to  ten  fune  are  sold  for  twenty-five  cents. 

Whenever  a  joint  is  discovered  and  raided  in  the  upper  part 
of  the  city,  but  few  if  any  Chinese  are  found  in  them.  The 
up-town  joints  are  patronized  almost  exclusively  by  white 
people,  and  I  believe  that  the  vice  cannot  be  wholly  stamped 
out  of  existence.  When  once  acquired  the  habit  is  not  easily 
shaken  off,  as  it  clings  to  its  victims  with  great  tenacity. 

One  up-town  joint  which  was  raided  only  a  fewr  months  ago 
was  located  in  a  respectable  apartment-house,  and  suspicion  was 


572 


RAIDING  AN  OPIUM  JOINT. 


drawn  to  it  by  the  large  number  of  well-dressed  and  well-be- 
haved people  of  both  sexes  who  went  there,  and  also  by  the 
peculiar  odor  that  came  from  the  door  and  permeated  the  halls 
of  the  building.  Ten  men  and  five  women  were  captured,  and 
passed  the  rest  of  the  night  in  the  Jefferson  Market  police  sta- 
tion.   All  gave  fictitious  names,  and  some  of  the  women  cried 


CAUGHT  IN  TIIE  ACT.     AN  OPIUM  SMOKER  SURPRISED  WHILE  SMOKING. 


and  begged  to  be  let  off,  as  this,  so  they  alleged,  was  the  first 
time  they  had  ever  been  in  the  place.  The  smoking  implements 
that  were  captured  in  the  raid  were  of  the  highest  class  of 
workmanship  and  are  an  important  addition  to  the  museum  at 
police  Headquarters.  One  of  the  prisoners  was  a  doctor  who 
lived  at  a  first-class  hotel  and  had  a  goodly  list  of  fashionable 
patients.  He  claimed  to  have  gone  there  for  scientific  observa- 
tion and  not  for  the  purpose  of  smoking  the  pernicious  drug, 


CHAPTEK  XXX. 


THE  BEGGARS  OF  .NEW  FORK  —  TRAMPS,  (II EATS,  HUMBUGS, 
AND  FRAUDS— INTERESTING  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES- 
VICTIMS  PROM  THE  COUNTRY. 

The  Incomes  of  Professional  Beggars  —  Resorts  of  Tramps  —  Plausible  Talcs 

—  A  Scotch  Fraud  —  My  Adventure  with  him — A  Plaintive  Appeal  — 
A  Transparent  Yarn  —  A  Disconcerted  Swindler — Claiming  Relationship 

—  An  Embarrassing  Position  —  Starting  to  Walk  to  Boston  —  A  Stricken 
Conscience  —  Helping  my  Poor  Relation — Thanks  an  Inch  Thick  —  Fe- 
male Frauds  — "  Gentlemen  Tramps"  —  A  Famishing  Man  —  Eating 
Crusts  out  of  the  Gutter  —  A  Tale  of  Woe  — A  Fraud  with  a  Crushed  Leg 
and  a  Starving  Family  —  A  Distressing  Case  —  The  Biter  Bitten  —  The 
Californian  with  a  Wooden  Leg — The  Rattle-Snake  Dodge — "Old 
Aunty  "  and  her  Methods —  "  God  Bless  You,  Deary  "  —  Blind  Frauds  and 
Humbugs  —  How  Count  rymen  are  Fleeced  —  Bunco-Steerers  —  Easily 
Taken  in  —  My  Experience  with  a  Bunco-Steerer. 

IT  is  estimated  that  nearly  six  thousand  beggars  live  and 
thrive  in  New  York  city.  It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  that 
among  this  vast  number  of  professional  loafers  there  should  be 
found  some  whose  methods  of  extorting  money  are  unique. 
Some  of  them  make  from  twenty-five  to  sixty  dollars  a  week, 
and  not  a  few  of  them  are  so  well  known  as  to  furnish  a  topic 
of  conversation  among  those  who  talk  over  the  strange  life  to 
be  seen  in  city  streets.  The  Charity  Organization  Society  re- 
cently issued  a  circular  warning  the  public  against  professional 
beggars,  ad  venturers,  and  other  undeserving  persons  who 
obtain  money  by  imposing  upon  the  credulity  of  the  charitable. 
Even  ordinary  street  begging  is  apparently  more  profitable 
than  honest  labor. 

The  great  city  is  a  home  for  a  good  (or  bad)  number  of 
" tramps"  and  an  occasional  refuge  lor  many  more.  With  the 
advent  of  summer  the  tramp  who  has  passed  the  winter  in  the 
city  hies  to  the  rural  regions,    lie  is  in  search  of  occupation 

(584) 


TRAMPS  AND  THEIR  TRICKS.  585 

which  he  never  finds ;  in  summer  he  wants  a  job  at  ice-cutting, 
and  in  winter  he  desires  work  in  a  hay-field  or  a  market-garden. 
Whatever  employment  he  seeks  is  sure  to  be  out  of  season,  and 
as  he  is  unable  to  live  by  honest  labor  he  makes  up  for  the  de- 
ficiency by  begging  or  stealing. 


A  tramp's  interrupted  nap. 


The  winter  occupation  of  the  circulating  or  tourist  tramp  is 
much  like  that  of  the  permanent  city  tramp  whose  suste- 
nance is  obtained  by  begging  or  fraud.  He  haunts  the  side- 
walk, especially  at  night,  and  pours  a  tale  of  woe  into  every  ear 
that  will  listen.  The  ordinary  tale  will  not  be  heard  or  heeded, 
and  his  ingenuity  is  severely  taxed  to  invent  something  that 
will  extract  cash  from  tin1  pocket  of  his  listener.  Some  of  the 
tramps' tricks  are  worthy  of  record,  as  they  display  a  genius 
that  would  secure  a  comfortable  existence  in  respectable 


592 


SHABBY-OEXTEEL  TRAMPS. 


munication  is  indicated  she  wishes  to  know  how  she  can  go 
there  on  loot,  as  she  is  out  of  money  and  must  walk.  The  sequel 
is  obvious.  I  once  watched  from  behind  a  tree  in  Madison 
Square  a  woman  who  had  an  address  for  Harlem,  live  miles 
away,  and  saw  her  obtain  her  care-fare  —  five  cents  —  four 
times  in  succession  within  twenty  minutes. 


A  GENUINELY   BUSTED  TRAMP. 


There  is  another  class  called  "gentlemen  tramps,"  men 
who  were  once  respectable  and  in  good  circumstances,  whose 
downfall  has  been  gradual,  and  who  grow  more  and  more 
seedy  in  appearance  every  year.  Some  of  them  make  a  pre- 
tence of  desiring  work,  and  they  are  always  going  somewhere 
to  answer  an  advertisement  or  to  make  an  inquiry,  but  inci- 
dentally they  are  on  the  outlook  for  alms.  One  of  these  men  — 
a  tall  and  rather  military-looking  personage  about  fifty  years 
of  age,  w  ith  a  white  mustache  and  a  head  of  curly  white  hair 


THE  FRAUD  WITH  A  WOODEN  LEG. 


597 


a  soft  hat  with  about  a  three-inch  brim  is  worn  carelessly  on 
his  head ;  he  leans  heavily  on  a  cane  and  walks  with  a  decided 
limp. 

He  never  speaks  to  anybody  who  is  not  looking  into  a  store 
window.  Approaching  his  victim  he  says  in  a  soft,  drawling 
voice : 

"  Excuse  me,  sir;  but  are  you  a  stranger  in  the  city?"  and 
no  matter  what  the  answer  may  be  he  continues :  "  I  am  here 
from  California  and  I  have  got  a  wooden  leg,"  —  then  with  his 
cane  he  somewhat 
vigorously  taps  the 
k>  wooden "  leg  to 
prove  its  genuine- 
ness, —  "and  I've 
been  walking  around 
all  night  and  all  day 
on  it  and  haven't  got 
any  money,  and  if 
you  could  loan  me  a" 
small  amount  to  en- 
able me  to  obtain  a 
night's  lodging  and 
a  supper  I  shall  be 
greatly  obliged  to 
you .  An d  if  you  will 
give  me  your  ad- 
dress, when  my  sister  sends  me  money  I  will  return  it  to  you." 

If  questions  are  asked  he  will  produce  letters  to  prove  his 
identity,  and  then  will  tell  how  he  lost  his  leg  by  being  bitten 
by  a  rattlesnake  in  Nebraska,  on  his  way  east,  and  show  that 
he  came  further  east  to  get  better  surgical  assistance,  and  finally 
lost  almost  all  of  his  limb  and  has  had  hard  luck  ever  since  lie 
left  the  hospital.  Although  everything  about  him  indicates 
that  he  is  what  he  claims  to  be,  he  is  a  fraud,  lie  has  not  lost 
his  leg  at  all.  A  piece  of  board  tied  to  his  leg  sounds  very 
wooden  when  rapped  with  his  cane.  He  usually  selects  persons 
who  look  like  strangers,  and  that  is  the  reason  why  he  always 


A  TRAMP'S  SUNDAY  MORNING  CHANGE. 


508 


THE  RATTLESNAKE  DODGE. 


speaks  to  those  who  look  into  store  windows.  He  has  boasted 
of  collecting  five  dollars  a  day. 

The  snake  dodge  seems  to  be  quite  popular.  Not  Long  ago 
a  colored  man  was  in  the  habit  of  hobbling  along  Sixth  Ave- 
nueand  Fourteenth  Street  with  a  small  snake  skin  in  one  hand, 
a  cigar-box  to  contain  contributions  in  the  other,  and  a  card  on 
his  breast  containing  the  following  announcement: 

"FRIENDS  : 
Tins  is  a  Rattlesnake  which  had  Caused  Me  to 

Lose  my  Leg. 
I  was  Bit  by  Him  ix  the  Dismal  Sw  amps  of  Vir- 
ginia. 

I  have  Him  Here  on  Exhibition. 
Asking  You  All  for  a  Little  Help  to  Get  an 
Artificial  Leg. 

JOHN  HOE. 

When  taken  into  custody  he  demanded  a  pistol,  that  he 
might  not  survive  the  disgrace  of  his  arrest.  He  said  that  on  los- 
ing"  his  le«;  in  the  manner  mentioned,  his  neighbors  in  Virginia 
raised  money  to  send  him  to  New  York  to  get  a  cork  leg  by 
begging.  He  is  believed  to  have  raised  enough  to  have  bought 
many  legs,  for  the  cigar-box  he  carried  was  full  of  coin  when 
he  was  arrested.  As  he  had  been  repeatedly  warned,  he  was 
sent  to  the  Island  for  three  months. 

Many  business  men  within  a  mile  of  the  Post  Office  are 
familiar  with  "Old  Aunty."  Aunty  believes  that  "it is  better  to 
laugh  than  be  sighing,"  and  so  she  does  not  descend  to  the  com- 
mon whining  tricks  of  the  ordinary  street  beggar.  She  walks 
into  offices,  and  her  queer  little  nutcracker  face  breaks  into  smil- 
ing wrinkles  under  the  frill  of  her  old-fashioned  cap.  She  drops 
a  little  courtesy,  holds  out  her  skinny  hand,  and  says, kk  God  bless 
you,  deary,"  and  when  the  usual  cent  is  forthcoming,  she  closes 
her  withered  fingers  on  it,  wishes  the  giver  many  blessings,  and 
walks  out  to  visit  the  next  man.  Rain  or  shine,  morning  and 
night,  Old  Aunty  walks  around  from  one  office  to  another  and 
collects  toll  everywhere. 

There  are  many  men  who  are  superstitious  enough  to  believe 
that  if  they  meel  Aunty  in  her  old  calico  gown,  her  little  plaid 


OLD  AUNTY  CONNORS. 


599 


shawl,  and  white  cap  early  in  the  day,  give  her  a  penny,  and 
get  in  return  one  of  those  smiles  which  breaks  her  quaint  face 
into  many  seams,  success  will  go  with  them  for  the  balance  of 
the  twenty-four  hours. 

Old  Aunty's  name  is  Connors,  and  she  lives  in  two  rooms  at 
the  top  of  a  tenement-house  in  Rutgers  Street,  and  all  the 
money  she  gets  over  and 
above  that  needed  for  her 
simple  wants  finds  its  way 
across  the  sea  to  the  "  Ould 
Sod,"  and  lightens  the  hard- 
ships of  some  of  her  num- 
berless relatives  there.  How 
much  she  receives  in  a  day 
is  purely  a  matter  of  conjec- 
ture, but  three  or  four  dol- 
lars would  not  be  an  exces- 


A  BLIND  MAN  8  TIN  SKiN. 


(  For  the  other  side  see  illustration  below. ) 


A  blind  man  is  considered  by  nearly  every  one  a  proper  ob- 
ject for  charity,  but  many  of  them  are  frauds  of  the  worst  kind. 
The  tin  sums  hanging:  across  their  breasts,  narrating  harrowing 
stories  of  misfortune,  are 
often  gotten  up  for  the  oc- 
casion and  are  sometimes 
painted  on  both  sides,  thus 
giving  the  beggar  two  tales 
to  help  him  along.  lie  dis- 
plays the  side  that  he  thinks 
will  prove  the  most  effective 
in  the  locality  he  happens 
to  be  in. 

A  sandy-mustached  blind 
man  who  sings  plaintive  airs  all  over  town  has  his  father  as  a 
confederate.  The  father  loiters  in  a  convenient  saloon  in  the 
neighborhood  while  the  son  sings.  Superintendent  Hebbard  of 
the  Charity  Organization  Society  recently  found  father  and 
son  doing  a  thriving  business  one  Saturday  night,  and  followed 


ARALYZE 
SINCE  THl* 
0  ;:DECEMBE 


WHAT  WAS  ON  THE  OTHER  SIDE. 


CHAPTEK  XX XII. 


STREET  VENDERS  AND  SIDEWALK  MERCHANTS  —  HOW  SKIN 
GAMES  AND  PETTY  SWINDLES  ARE  PLAYED  — "  BEATIN' 
THE  ANGELS  FOR  LYIN'." 

Dirty  Jake  — A  Silent  Appeal  — A  Melancholy  Face  — Three  Dollars  a  Day 
for  Lungs  and  Tongue  —  Stickfast's  Glue  —  A  Windy  Trade  —  A  Couple 
of  Rogues  —  Spreading  Dismay  and  Consternation  —  Partners  in  Sin  — 
Sly  Confederates  in  the  Crowd  —  How  to  Sell  Kindling-Wood  —  A  Mean 
Trick  and  How  it  is  Played  —  A  Skin  Game  in  Soap  — Frail  Unman 
Nature  — Petty  Swindles  —  Drawing  a  Crowd  —  '"The  Great  Chain- 
Lightnin'  Double-Refined,  Centennial,  Night-Bloomin'  Serious  Soap"  — 
Spoiling  Thirteen  Thousand  Coats  —  The  Patent  Grease-Eradicator  — 
Inspiring  Confidence  —  "  Beatin'  the  Angels  for  Lym'" —  A  Sleight  of 
Hand  Performance  —  "  They  Looks  Well,  an'  They're  Cheap  —  How  City 
Jays  are  Swindled  and  Hayseeds  from  the  Country  Fleeced. 

AN  interesting  feature  of  metropolitan  life  is  the  army  of 
street  venders  of  many  names  and  kinds  to  be  met  on 
every  hand.  A  stroll  along  Broadway  or  the  Bowery  or  in  the 
vicinity  of  City  Hall  brings  to  view  many  of  these  itinerant 
merchants,  who  literally  swarm  in  some  portions  of  the  city 
and  manage  to  make  a  living  out  of  the  public.  And  some  of 
them  make  a  very  good  living  too. 

I  remember  a  peddler  of  pocket-cutlery  who  every  evening 
used  to  haunt  the  corridors  of  hotels,  and  stroll  through  beer- 
saloons,  barrooms,  and  other  places  open  to  the  public.  He 
was  known  as  "Jake"  and  was  of  German  origin;  sometimes 
he  was  called  "  Dutch  Jake  "  and  sometimes  "  Dirty  Jake/1  — 
the  former  appellation  having  reference  to  his  nationality  and 
the  latter  to  his  personal  appearance.  He  was  very  melancholy 
of  visage;  he  never  asked  yon  to  purchase  his  wares;  but  the 
silent  appeal  of  his  beseeching  look,  his  unwashed  face  and  un- 
combed hair,  his  sad  physiognomy,  and  his  threadbare  cloth- 
ing, as  he  stood  speechless  in  front  of  a  possible  patron,  and 

(G14J 


624 


SKIN  GAMES  AND  THEIR  VICTIMS. 


other  money  boxes  remain,  and  also  the  blank  one.  Confidence 
is  soon  inspired  in  the  crowd  of  onlookers ;  and  an  unsuspecting- 
and  bona  fide  purchaser,  who  has  all  the  time  closely  watched 
the  proceedings  and  is  quite  certain  that  he  has  a  "  sure  thing," 
now  tries  his  hand.    But  somehow  he  always  finds  a  blank  in 


his  box,  and  should  he  draw  a  score  of  times  in  succession,  his 
luck  will  always  be  the  same.  It  is  a  "  skin  "  game  successfully 
executed  by  a  skillful  performance  of  sleight-of-hand,  aided  by 
confederates  who  do  everything  in  their  power  to  confuse  the 
unlucky  buyer. 

The  man  who  dispenses  soda  Avater  at  two  cents  a  glass  and 
ice  cream  at  one  cent  a  plate  is  sure  of  liberal  patronage  from 
gamins  and  newsboys,  a  crowd  of  whom  may  generally  be 
found  about  the  vender's  stand. 


/ 


PART  III. 

PART  III  was  written  by  the  great  detective,  Chief  Inspector  Thos.  Byrnes. 
Every  line  of  it  was  written  by  his  own  hand.  He  is  to-day  the  most  famous 
detective  in  the  world  —  the  dread  of  all  criminals  in  this  country  and  in  Europe. 
More  than  any  other  man  he  knows  the  methods  and  characteristics  of  "crooks"  and 
possesses  a  thorough  knowledge  of  their  haunts.  In  this  volume  he  gives  the  ripe 
experience  of  thirty  years  of  detective  life,  lie  accompanies  us  in  person  i<> 
secret  places  known  only  to  the  police;  explains  how  burglars  work;  describes  their 
tools,  plans,  and  operations;  tells  how  bank  vaults  and  safes  are  robbed,  and  how 
combination  locks  are  picked,  all  the  time  weaving  into  his  narrative  thrilling,  tragic, 
and  laughable  experiences,  most  of  them  taken  from  his  privatt  diary.  lie  explains 
how  detectives  recognize  their  prey,  shows  how  criminals  often  lead  double  lives, 
i.  e.,  are  model  husbands  and  fathers  at  home,  and  gives  many  strange  incidents, 
bewildering  mysteries,  remarkable  stories,  and  startling  revelations  that  have  conic 
under  his  experience  during  his  long  career. 

The  great  moral  lesson  taught  in  this  part  <>f  the  book  is  that 

Honesty  is  the  best  Policy,  first,  lust,  ami  alt  the  time. 


PART  III. 


BY 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

LOW  LODGING-HOUSES  OF  NEW  YORK  -  PLACES  THAT  POSTER 
CRIME  AND  HARBOR  CRIMINALS  —  DENS  OF  THIEVES. 

The  Breeding-Places  of  Crime  —  Dens  of  Thieves  —  How  Boys  and  Young 
Men  from  the  Country  are  Lured  to  Ruin  —  From  the  Lodging-House  to 
the  Gallows  —  A  Night's  Lodging  for  Three  Cents  —  Low,  Dirty,  and 
Troublesome  Places — Hotbeds  of  Crime — Leaves  from  my  own  Experience 

—  Illustrative  Cases  —  A  Forger's  Crime  and  its  Results  — A  Unique 
Photograph  —  The  Pride  of  a  Bowery  Tough — "Holding  up"  a  Victim 

—  The  Importation  of  Foreign  Criminals  —  A  Human  Ghoul  —  How  Ex- 
Convicts  Drift  back  into  Crime  — The  Descent  into  the  Pit  — Black  Sheep. 

IT  is  undeniable  that  the  cheap  lodging-houses  of  New  York 
city  have  a  powerful  tendency  to  produce,  foster,  and 
increase  crime.  Instead  of  being  places  where  decent  people 
reduced  in  circumstances  or  temporarily  distressed  for  w  ant  of 
money  can  obtain  a  clean  bed  for  a  small  sum,  these  places  are 
generally  filthy  beyond  description,  and  are  very  largely  the 
resorts  of  thieves  and  other  criminals  of  the  lowest  class  who 
here  consort  together  and  lay  plans  for  crimes. 

But  this  is  not  the  worst  feature  of  the  matter.  Take  the 
case  of  a  youth  who  runs  away  from  his  home  in  the  country, 

(645) 


RESORTS  OF  THIEVES  AND  CRIMINALS.  649 

ground  of  justifiable  homicide.  It  was  at  this  same  Phoenix 
house  that  I  and  my  men  arrested  the  notorious  Greenwal] 
and  Miller  on  the  charge  of  murdering  Lyman  S.  Weeks  in 
Brooklyn.  There  is  little  doubt  in  my  mind  that  this  murder, 
a  most  dastardly  crime  (Mi*.  Weeks  being  shot  down  in  his 
own  house  by  a  burglar  who  had  invaded  it),  was  hatched  in 


A  SEVEN  CENT  LODGING  HOOM  AT  MIDNIGHT. 


this  house  or  in*  some  other  of  like  character.  In  the  very 
same  place  three  men  were  subsequently  arrested  for  a  bur- 
glary committed  in  a  residence  in  Mount  Yernon.  In  the 
lodging-house  at  No.  262  Bowery,  we  secured  a  gang  of  thieves 
who  had  been  engaged  in  a  series  of  robberies  at  Kingston, 
N.  Y.,  who  were  afterwards  sent  up  there  for  punishment. 
Hundreds  of  instances  of  criminals  who  made  their  abode  in 
houses  of  this  sort  may  be  mentioned. 

A  case  somewhat  out  of  the  ordinary  run  was  that  of  a 
man,  who  was  convicted  of  forgery  on  the  complaint  of  a  well- 


ENGRAVED  FROM  A  PHOTO  GRAPH  EXFREboLY  FORTIUS  WORK . 
D."WORTHINGTON  &CO.  PUBLISHERS.  HARTFORD.  CONN. 


652  BAD  INFLUENCE  OF  CHEAP  LODGING-HOUSES. 

bing  private  houses  in  the  upper  part  of  the  city.  lie  told  me 
that  he  had  been  sent  here  on  account  of  being  caught  in  thiev- 
ing operations  in  his  native  land.  He  had  no  money  when  he 
arrived,  except  a  few  shillings,  and  almost  the  first  place  he  got 
into  was  one  of  the  cheap  lodging-houses.    He  soon  became 


NIGHT  IN  A  HAMMOCK  LODGING-ROOM  FOR  TRAMPS. 

acquainted  with  the  inmates,  who  were  mostly  thieves,  and  in 
a  little  while  they  took  him  out  over  the  city  and  set  him  to 
stealing.  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  that  there  are  numerous 
cases  like  this. 

But  the  evils  that  have  been  already  mentioned  are  not  the 
only  ones  that  are  produced  by  the  cheap  lodging-house  system. 
It  is  notorious  that  these  houses  are  used  every  year  for  the 
"colonization"  of  voters.  A  large  number  of  men  register 
regularly  from  these  places,  and  they  have  not  the  slightest 
hesitation  about  swearing  in  their  votes  in  case  they  are  chal- 
lenged. Now  and  then  somebody  comes  to  grief  through  this 
practice,  but  it  still  flourishes.    Not  long  ago  the  proprietor  of 


(MIA  PTEE  WW. 


SCIENTIFIC  BURGLARS  AND  EXPERT  CRACKSMEN  —  HOW  BANK 
VAULTS    AND  SAFES    ARE  OPENED  AND    ROBBED  —  THE 
TOOLS,  PLANS,  OPERATIONS,  AND  LEADERS  OF  HIGHLY 
BRED  CRIMINALS. 

An  Important  Prof ession  —  Highly-Bred  Rogues — The  Lower  Ranks  of  Thieves 
—  Professional  Bank-Burglars  and  their  Talents  —  Misspent  Years  —A 
Startling  Statement  about  Safes  —  The  Race  between  Burglars  and  Sale- 
builders  —  How  Safes  are  Opened  — .Mysteries  of  the  Craft  —  Safe-Blow- 
ing—  How  Combination  Locks  are  Picked  —  A  Delicate  Touch  —  Throw- 
ing Detectives  oil"  the  Scent  —  A  Mystery  for  Fifteen  Years —  Leaders  of 
Gangs  —  Conspiring  to  Hob  a  Bank — Working  from  an  Adjoining  Build- 
ing —  Disarming  Suspicion  —  Shadowing  Hank  (  Mlicers  — Working  through 
the  Cashier  —  Making  False  and  Duplicate  Keys  —  The  Use  of  High  Ex- 
plosives—  Safe-Breakers  and  their  Tools  —  Ingenious  Methods  of  Expert 
Criminals  —  Opening  a  Safe  in  Twenty  Minutes  —  Fagin  and  his  Pupils- 
Taking  Impression  of  Store  Locks  in  Wax  —  Old  Criminals  who  'reach 
Young  Thieves. 

THE  ways  of  making  a  livelihood  by  crime  are  many,  and 
the  number  of  men  and  women  who  live  by  their  wits  in 
New  York  city  reaches  into  the  thousands.  Some  of  these 
criminals  are  very  clever  in  their  own  peculiar  line,  and  are 
constantly  turning  their  lawless  qualities  to  the  utmost  pecuni- 
ary account.  Robbery  is  now  classed  as  a  profession,  and  in 
place  of  the  awkward  and  hang-dog  looking-  thief  of  a  few 
years  ago  we  have  to-day  the  intelligent  and  thoughtful  rogue. 
There  seems  to  be  a  strange  fascination  about  crime  that  often 
draws  men  of  brains,  who  have  their  eyes  wide  open,  into  its 
meshes.  Many  people,  and  especially  those  whose  knowledge 
of  criminal  life  is  purely  theoretical,  imagine  that  persons  who 
adopt  criminal  pursuits  are  governed  by  what  they  have  been 
previously,  and  that  a  criminal  life  once  chosen,  is,  as  a  rule, 
adhered  to;  or,  in  other  words,  a  man  once  a  pickpocket  is 
always  a  pickpocket;  or,  once  a  burglar  always  a  burglar. 

(657) 


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CONSUMMATION  OF  THE  PLOT. 


tenant ;  and  his  landlord  has  in  more  than  one  instance 
been  the  president  of  the  bank  against  which  this  bland 
and  good-natured  tenant  was  secretly  plotting.  After  a 
few  weeks'  steady  attention  to  business  he  naturally  becomes 
acquainted  with  the  bank  clerks,  and  passes  much  of  his  spare 
time  in  conversation  with  them,  and  thereby  manages  to  gain 
their  confidence.  Being  a  good  judge  of  human  nature,  he  is 
thus  able  to -survey  the  institution,  obtain  all  the  inside  infor- 
mation he  desires,  and  sometimes  gains  an  impor- 
tant ally  in  his  nefarious  undertaking.  If  he  can 
tamper  with  or  corrupt  one  of  the  clerks  or  watch- 
men, the  job  is  plain  sailing.  As  soon,  however,  as 
the  scheme  becomes  known  to  an  outsider,  the  leader, 
fearing  treachery,  hastens  matters  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible. Should  the  mechanical  part  of  the  work 
have  been  figured  down,  and  the  combination 
be  at  the  mercy  of  the  robbers,  the  final  work 
is  generally  completed  between  Saturday  night 
and  Sunday  morning. 

By  cutting  through  the  divid- 
ing partition  wall,  ceiling,  or  floor, 
aided  by  powerful  jimmies,  the 
bank-burglar  and  his  assistants 
find  no  difficulty  in  getting  into 
the  bank.  Then  the  wrecking  of 
the  vault  begins,  and  in  a  short 
time  the  treasure  that  it  contains 
is  in  the  possession  of  the  cracks- 
men. The  task  completed,  the 
burglars  carry  their  booty  into 
the  adjoining  store,  or  perhaps  the 
basement  below  the  ransacked  in- 
stitution, and  at  a  proper  time  remove  it  to  a  much  safer  place. 
Almost  simultaneously  with  the  discovery  that  the  bank  vault 
was  not  as  secure  as  it  was  supposed  to  be,  it  is  learned  that  the 
affable  business  man  who  ran  the  oyster-saloon  or  billiard-room 
next  door,  or  made  change  in  the  barber's  or  shoemaker's  shop 


burglars'  sectional  jimmies 
and  leather  case  for  car- 
rying them. 


CHAPTER    XXX  VI. 


BANK  SNEAK-THIEVES  ANT)  THEIR  CHARACTERISTICS  —  PLOTS 
AND  SCHEMES  FOR  ROBBING  MONEYED  INSTITUTIONS  — A 
DARING  LOT  OF  ROGUES. 

Characteristics  of  Bank  Sneak-Thieves  —  Rogues  of  Education  and  Pleasing 
Address — Nervy  Criminals  of  Unlimited  Cheek  —  How  Bank  Thieves 
Work  —  Some  of  their  Exploits  —  Carefully  Laid  Plots  —  Extraordinary 
Attention  to  Details  —  A  Laughable  Story  —  A  Wily  Map-Peddler  — 
Escaping  with  Twenty  Thousand  Dollars  —  A  New  Clerk  in  a  Bank  — 
Watching  for  Chances  —  A  Decidedly  Cool  Thief — A  Mysterious  Loss 
—  A  Good  Impersonator — Watching  a  Venerable  Coupon-Cutter  —  Story 
of  a  Tin  Box  —  Mysterious  Loss  of  a  Bundle  of  Bonds  —  How  the  Loss 
was  Discovered  Three  Months  Afterwards — An  Astonished  Old  Gentle- 
man —  A  Clerk  in  an  Ink-Bedabbled  Duster  —  How  the  Game  is  Worked 
in  Country  Banks  —  Unsuspecting  Cashiers  —  Adroit  Rogues  and  Impu- 
dent Rascals  —  A  Polite  Thief. 

C  OB  many  years  sneak-thieving  from  banks  flourished  to  an 


1  alarming  extent  in  New  York  city,  and  under  the  old 
detective  system  it  seemed  impossible  to  put  a  stop  to  this 
form  of  robbery.  In  those  days  notorious  thieves  were  per- 
mitted to  loiter  unmolested  about  the  streets,  and  on  more 
than  one  occasion  it  was  alleged  that  well-filled  cash  boxes 
disappeared  from  bankers'  safes  in  Wall  street  while  detectives 
were  on  watch  outside.  All  this  has  changed.  Well-known 
thieves  no  longer  haunt  that  famous  locality,  and  since  the 
establishment  of  a  sub-detective  bureau  there,  a  few  years  ago, 
not  a  dollar  has  been  stolen  by  professional  criminals  from  any 
of  the  moneyed  institutions  in  this  great  financial  center.  The 
inauguration  also  of  a  patrol  service  by  experienced  detectives 
during  business  hours,  and  the  connecting  by  telephone  of 
banking  institutions  with  the  detective  bureau,  have  been  the 
means  of  putting  a  stop  to  the  operations  of  bank  sneak-thieves. 
Still,  in  other  cities  where  these  precautions  have  not  been  or 


(672) 


674 


CAREFULLY  LAID  PLOTS. 


able  to  talk  upon  it  properly  and  interestingly.  This  is  one  of 
the  preliminary  steps  in  a  well-planned  robbery.  Next  the 
thieves  make  themselves  thoroughly  familiar  with  the  manner 
in  which  business  is  conducted  in  the  bank  they  are  plotting  to 
pillage.  They  never  neglect  any  point,  no  matter  how  small 
or  apparently  trivial  it  may  be.  The  exact  time  that  the  clerks 
are  in  the  habit  of  leaving  their  desks  for  dinner,  the  restau- 
rants they  dine  at,  and  the  time  they  are  allowed  for  meals, 
are  all  noted.  These  are  necessary  for  the  success  of  the  un- 
dertaking ;  and  when  at  last  all  the  plans  have  been  perfected, 
the  prize  is  captured  at  a  time  when  there  are  but  few  persons 
around.  There  have  been  exceptions  to  this  rule,  however, 
and  cash-boxes  have  been  successfully  spirited  away  just  at  the 
moment  of  the  receipt  of  some  astounding  financial  intelli- 
gence, and  while  the  office  was  thronged  with  merchants  and 
brokers  discussing  the  startling  news.  Thefts  of  this  sort  re- 
quire but  a  moment  for  inception  and  execution,  and  frequently 
a  daring  scheme  has  been  carried  out  simultaneously  with  the 
opportunity  that  made  the  theft  possible. 

I  recall  an  instance  of  the  great  presence  of  mind  of  this 
class  of  criminals,  from  the  record  of  one  of  the  most  success- 
ful sneak-thieves  I  ever  knew.  There  was  a  heated  discussion 
in  a  brokers  office  one  day  about  the  location  of  a  town  in 
Ohio.  The  noted  robber  "  on  mischief  bent "  slipped  into  the 
place  just  in  time  to  overhear  several  gentlemen  declare  that 
the  town  in  question  was  located  in  as  many  different  counties 
in  that  State.  While  the  argument  progressed  the  wily  thief 
hit  upon  a  plan  that  enabled  him  to  capture  the  cash-box, 
which  temptingly  rested  in  the  safe,  the  door  of  which  was 
open.  Silently  and  quickly  he  left  the  office  unperceived,  and, 
meeting  his  confederate  outside,  sent  him  in  all  haste  to  a  sta- 
tionery store,  with  instructions  to  buy  several  maps,  and  one 
especially  showing  the  counties  and  towns  in  Ohio.  Then  the 
rogue  returned  to  the  broker's  office  to  await  his  opportunity. 
A  few  minutes  later  he  was  followed  by  his  companion  in  the 
role  of  a  map  peddler.  Being  at  first  told  that  no  maps  were 
wanted,  the  cunning  accomplice,  in  a  loud  voice,  said : 


LAUGHABLE  STORIES. 


675 


"Can  I  show  you  a  new  map,  giving  the  boundaries  of  all 
the  towns  and  counties  in  ( >hio  \n 

The  appeal  was  overheard  by  one  of  the  men  who  had  been 
involved  in  the  recent  discussion.  Telling  the  peddler  to  stop, 
he  at  the  same  time  turned  to  the  other  gentlemen  present  and 
said.  "Now,  boys,  I'll  bet  whatever  you  like  that  the  town  in 
dispute  is  in  the  county  I  said,  and  as  chance  has  brought  us  a 
map  of  Ohio  the  bets  can  be  settled  without  delay."  Several 
bets  were  made,  and  for  a  feAv  minutes  the  broker's  office  was 
in  a  greater  state  of  excitement  than  it  ever  had  been  before, 
even  in  panic  days.  As  the  peddler  slowly  unrolled  his  bundle 
of  maps  the  brokers  and  the  clerks  crowded  about  him,  anxious 
to  learn  the  result.  The  sneak  took  advantage  of  the  excite- 
ment and  the  crowd  around  his  confederate,  and  made  his  way, 
unnoticed,  to  the  safe.  He  captured  the  cash-box,  containing 
$20,000,  and  escaped  with  it  while  his  partner  was  exhibiting 
the  map. 

Another  professional  sneak,  known  as  a  man  of  great  cool- 
ness and  determination,  and  possessed  of  no  small  degree  of  cour- 
age, is  credited  with  having  entered  a  bank  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  going  behind  the  desk  he  divested  himself  of  his  coat, 
donned  a  duster,  and  installed  himself  as  clerk.  He  coolly 
waited  there  some  time  watching  for  a  chance  to  steal  a  roll  of 
greenbacks,  bonds,  or  anything  valuable  that  he  could  lay  his 
hands  on.  One  of  the  clerks  requested  the  intruder  to  leave, 
but  the  impudent  thief  retorted  by  telling  the  former  to  mind 
his  own  business,  and  also  intimating  that  as  soon  as  his  friend, 
the  president,  arrived,  he  would  have  Avhat  he  pleased  to  call  a 
meddlesome  fellow  properly  punished.  The  clerk,  however,  in- 
sisted upon  the  rogue's  vacating  the  desk,  and  he  finally  did  so 
under  protest.  In  a  seemingly  high  state  of  indignation  the 
robber  left  the  place,  and,  later  on,  the  cashier,  to  his  great  sur- 
prise, discovered  that  he  had  suddenly  and  mysteriously  become 
$15,000  short.  Of  course  the  thief  never  called  a  second  time 
to  explain  the  mystery. 

On  another  occasion  a  bundle  of  bonds  vanished  from  one 
of  the  rooms  in  a  safe-deposit  vault,  and  the  theft  was  not  (lis- 


USELESS  LOCKS  AND  BOLTS. 


683 


knows  no  faltering.  When  lie  has  squandered  his  ready  cash 
in  riotous  lMng,  and  his  treasury  needs  replenishing,  he  makes 
it  his  business  to  scan  the  newspapers  carefully,  and  keep  him- 
self posted  on  the  latest  arrivals,  the  rooms  they  occupy,  and 
other  data  of  interest.  The  coming  and  going  of  professionals, 
particularly  female  theatrical  stars,  salesmen,  bankers,  and  bri- 
dal parties,  and  all  persons  likely  to  carry  valuable  jewelry  and 
trinkets,  or  a  large  amount  cf  money,  are  objects  of  his  special 
solicitude. 

When  the  unsuspecting  prey,  fatigued  by  travel,  gives  proof 
of  his  unconsciousness  by  deep,  stertorous  breathing,  the  hotel 
thief  steals  silently  from  his  hiding-place.  A  slight  push  may 
let  him  into  the  apartment,  or  it  may  be  necessary  to  use  a 
gimlet  and  a  small  piece  of  crooked  wire  to  slide  back  the  bolt, 
or  a  pair  of  nippers  to  turn  the  key  left  in  the  lock  on  the  inside 
of  the  door.  Sometimes  as  many  as  a  dozen  rooms  in  the  same 
hotel  have  been  plundered  in  one  night,  and  none  of  the  watch- 
men saw  or  heard  the  thief.  The  hotel  thief  can  carry  his  en- 
tire outfit  in  his  vest  pocket  and  can  laugh  in  his  sleeve  at  com- 
mon bolts  and  bars. 

The  shooting  back  of  the  old-fashioned  slide-bolt  from  the 
outside  of  the  apartment  was  for  many  years  a  bewildering 
mystery.  A  piece  of  crooked  wire  inserted  through  the  key- 
hole by  the  nimble  rogue  made  the  bolt  worthless,  and  a  turn 
of  the  knob  was  all  that  was  required  to  open  the  door. 

It  takes  only  a  few  minutes  for  an  expert  hotel  thief  to 
enter  a  room.  Af- 

§       B  <= 


BURGLARS    KEY  NIPPERS. 
(  For  unlocking  a  door  from  the  outside. ) 


ter  he  has  reached 
the  door  of  the 
apartment  in 
which  the  weary 
traveler  is  sleeping  soundly,  he  takes  from  his  pocket  a  pair  of 
slender,  small. nippers,  a  bent  piece  of  wire,  and  a  piece  of  silk 
thread.  These  are  the  only  tools  some  thieves  use.  Insert- 
ing the  nippers  in  the  key-hole,  he  catches  the  end  of  the  key. 
Then  a  twist  shoots  back  the  lock  bolt,  and  another  Leaves  the 
key  in  a  position  from  which  it  can  easily  be  displaced.  Should 


SMOOTH  AND  ENTERTAINING  VILLAINS. 


685 


thoroughly  moistened,  and  maintain  a  sufficient  grip  not  to  be 
displaced  by  any  ordinary  jar.  When  the  wood  becomes  dry 
the  door  can  be  easily  forced  in  without  trouble  or  the  least 
danger  from  noise. 

The  boarding-house  thief  is  always  a  smooth  and  entertain- 
ing talker,  who  invariably  makes  acquaintances  in  new  quarters 
in  short  order.  In  a  pleasant  chat  with  the  inquisitive  land- 
lady lie  generally  succeeds  in  gleaning  all  the  information  he 

raS 


FALSE  AND  SKELETON  KEYS  TAKEN  FKOM  HOUSE  TTTTEVES. 


desires  about  the  other  guests  in  the  house.  Most  women  are 
fond  of  displaying  their  jewels  and  valuables  at  fashionable 
boarding-houses.  While  amusing  his  newly-made  acquaintances 
with  his  laughable  stories,  the  astute  robber  is  at  the  same  time 
making-  a  thorough  survey.  His  covetous  eyes  never  miss  the 
flash  of  diamonds,  and  should  he  be  in  doubt  as  to  their  genu- 
ineness he  has  only  to  speak  of  the  matter  to  one  of  the  friends 
of  the  wearer,  and  he  will  be  told  wThen  and  where  they  were 
bought  and  the  price  paid  for  them. 

After  the  rogue  has  secured  a  full  inyentory  of  the  jewels 


CHAPTEK  XXXVIII. 


THE  ROGUES'  GALLERY  — WHY  THIEVES  ARE  PHOTOGRAPHED 
—  TELL-TALE  SIGNS  —  PECULIARITIES  OF  CRIMINALS. 

"Where  Have  I  Seen  That  Man  Before?"  — Who  is  it?  —  A  Sudden  Look 
of  Recognition  —  A  Notorious  Burglar  in  Fashion's  Throng  —  A  Swell- 
Cracksman— The  Rogues'  Gallery  — Its  Object  and  its  Usefulness  — 
How  Criminals  Try  to  Cheat  the  Camera  — How  Detectives  Recognize 
Their  Prey  —  Ineffaceable  Tell-Tale  Signs  — The  Art  of  Deception  — 
Human  Vanity  Before  the  Camera  —  Slovenly  Criminals  — Flash  Crimi- 
nals —  The  Weaknesses  of  Criminals  —  Leading  Double  Lives  —  A  Strange 
Fact  —  Criminals  Who  are  Model  Husbands  and  Fathers  at  Home  — 
Some  Good  Traits  in  Criminals  — Mistaken  Identity  —  Peculiarities  of 
Dress  — A  Mean  Scoundrel  —  Picking  Pockets  at  Wakes  and  Funerals 
—  A  Solemn  Looking  Pair  of  Precious  Rascals  — The  Lowest  Type  of 
Criminals — Placing  People  Where  They  Belong. 

\\T HERE,  it  does  not  matter,  but  in  a  fashionable  place  of 


V  V  amusement  which  blazed  with  light  and  was  radiant 
with  the  shimmer  of  silks,  the  flash  of  jewels,  and  the  artificial 
glories  with  which  wealth  and  fashion  surround  themselves,  a 
tall,  well-dressed  man  Avas  standing,  with  a  lady  on  his  arm, 
waiting  till  the  outgoing  throng  gave  him  exit.  A  judge  of 
the  Supreme  Court  was  just  behind  him,  and  at  his  elbow  was 
a  banker  whose  name  is  powerful  on  Wall  Street.  With  suave 
manners,  a  face  massive  and  intelligent,  and  apparel  in  unex- 
ceptionable taste,  there  was  yet  something  about  the  man  that 
recalled  other  and  strangely  remote  associations.  It  certainly 
was  not  the  dress  or  attitude  or  air  that  seemed  familiar.  Nor 
was  it  the  quick,  sharp  eyes  that  lighted  up  and  seemed  indeed 
the  most  notable  features  of  the  countenance.  Nor  could  it 
be  the  neatly  trimmed  whiskers  or  the  somewhat  sallow  cheeks 
they  covered.  And  certainly  no  suggestion  of  recognition 
could  lie  in  the  thin  hair,  carefully  brushed  back  from  a  fore- 
head that  bulged  out  into  knobs  and  was  crossed  by  some  deep 


(689) 


A  LIFE  OF  DECEPTION. 


aim  to  have  the  besl  we  can  get,  for  photography  hag  been  an 
invaluable  aid  to  t  he  police. 

The  Rogues'  Gallery  and  Criminal  Directory  in  New  York 
is  the  most  complete  in  the  country.  There  arc  numbers  of 
instances  where  a  criminal  appeal's  in  public  under  circum- 
stances Par  different  from  those  under  which  he  is  brought  to 
police  Headquarters.  The  burglar  before  mentioned  is  a  good 
example  of  what  a  swell-cracksmau  may  look  like  when  he  has 
the  means  and  taste  to  dress  himself  in  fashionable  clothes. 


STILETTOES  AND  KNIVES  TAKEN  FROM  CRIMINALS. 
(From  the  Museum  of  Crime.) 


There  are  scores  of  men  and  women  whose  appearance  in  the 
streets  gives  no  hint  of  their  real  character.  Deception  is 
their  business,  and  they  study  its  arts  carefully.  It  is  true 
there  are  criminals  brought  to  Headquarters  who  even  in 
sitting  for  a  photograph  for  the  Rogues'  Gallery  show  a  weak- 
ness to  appear  to  advantage,  and  adjust  dress,  tie,  and  hair 
with  as  much  concern  as  if  the  picture  was  intended  for  their 
dearest  friends.  I  have  seen  women  especially  whose  vanity 
cropped  out  the  moment  the  camera  was  turned  on  them. 
But  that  is  infrequent,  and  one  must  look  for  the  faces  seen 
in  the  Rogues'  Gallery  in  other  shapes  and  with  other  accom- 
paniments than  those  that  appear  in  a  photograph. 

All  criminals  have  their  weaknesses.  The  lower  class  of 
them  spend  their  money  in  the  way  their  instincts  dictate. 


a  — 

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§  5 

ft 


MEN  WHO  LEAD  DOUBLE  LIVES. 


G95 


Some  are  slovenly  hulks  of  fellows  who  pride  themselves  on 
sliabbiness,  and  to  them  shabbiness  is  a  part  of  their  business. 
Then  there  are  others  of  the  flashy  order  who  run  into  ex- 
tremes in  dress,  and  copy  the  gamblers  and  variety-theatre 
performers  in  their  attire.  But  there  are  many  —  and  they 
are  of  the  higher  and  more  dangerous  order  of  criminals  — 
who  carry  no  suggestion  of  their  calling  about  them.  Here 
is  where  the  public  err.  They  imagine  that  all  burglars  look 
like  Bill  Sykes  and  Flash  Toby  Crackit,  whereas  the  most 
modest  and  most  gentlemanly  people  they  meet  may  be  faith- 
ful representatives  of  these  characters. 

Nearly  all  great  criminals  lead  double  lives.  Strange  as  it 
may  appear,  it  is  a  fact  that  some  of  the  most  unscrupulous 
rascals  who  ever  cracked  a  safe  or  turned  out  a  counterfeit 
were  at  home  model  husbands  and  fathers.  In  a  great  many 
cases  wives  have  aided  their  guilty  partners  in  their  villainy, 
and  the  chil- 
dren, too, 
have  taken  a 
hand  in  it. 
But  all  sug- 
gestion of  the 
cr  imina  l's 
calling  was 
left  outside 

the  front  door.  The  family  of  a  notorious  and  dangerous  forg- 
er lived  quietly  and  respectably,  mingled  with  the  best  of  people, 
and  were  well  liked  by  all  who  met  them.  Another  equally  dan- 
gerous criminal  who  was  found  dead  near  Yonkers,  probably 
made  away  with  by  his  associates,  was  a  fine-looking  man  with 
cultured  tastes  and  refined  manners.  Others  would  pass  tor 
honest  and  industrious  mechanics,  and  more  than  one  of  them 
has  well  provided  for  his  old  mother  and  his  sisters.  I  recall 
one  desperate  fellow  who  paid  for  his  two  little  daughters' 
education  at  a  convent  in  Canada,  from  which  they  were  grad- 


SAND-BAGS  AND  SLUNG-SHOTS  TAKEN  FTtOM  CRIMINALS. 
( From  the  Museum  of  Crime. ) 


>right  young  ladies,  without  ever 


uated  well-bred  and 
picion  of  their  father's  business  reaching  them 


I  sus- 
rhis  same 


HOW  THIEVES  AND  BURGLARS  DRESS. 


thing  has  been  done  by  some  of  the  hardest  cases  we  have  to 
contend  with.  One  of  the  most  noted  pickpockets  in  the 
country  had  children  whose  education,  dress,  and  manners 
won  general  admiration.  There  is  nothing-  to  mark  people  of 
that  stamp  as  a  class. 

Nor  is  physiognomy  a  safe  guide,  but  on  the  contrary  it  is 
often  a  very  poor  one.  In  the  Rogues'  Gallery  may  he  seen 
photographs  of  rascals  who  resemble  the  best  people  in  the 


country,  in  some  in- 
stances sufficiently  like 


^^^^^^^^^^^^g^=~^    personal  acquaintances 

to  admit  of  mistaking 

^Njl^^^2^^^^\^  one  for  the  other, 

which,  by  the  way,  is 

GAGS  TAKEN  FROM  BURGLARS. 

no  uncommon  occur- 

( From  the  Museum  of  Crime. )  _    .  „ 

renee.  it  is  easy  tor  a 
detective  to  pick  up  the  wrong  man.  Time  and  again  I  have 
seen  victims  of  thieves,  when  called  upon  in  court  to  identify 
a  prisoner  seated  among*  a  number  of  onlookers,  pick  out  his 
captor  or  a  court  clerk  as  the  offender. 

Thieves  generally  dress  up  to  their  business.  I  do  not 
mean  that  they  indicate  their  business  by  their  dress,  but  just 
the  opposite.  They  attire  themselves  so  as  to  attract  the 
least  attention  from  the  class  of  people  among  whom  they 
wish  to  operate.  To  do  this  they  must  dress  like  this  class. 
If  they  are  among  poor  people,  they  dress  shabbily.  If  among 
well-to-do  folks,  they  put  on  style.  If  among  sporting  men, 
they  are  flashy  in  attire.  It  is  a  great  thing  to  escape  notice, 
—  to  meet  a  man  in  conversation  and  yet  leave  no  distinct  im- 
pression of  face  or  personality.  I  remember  one  man  whose 
scarred  cheek  and  missing  eye  would  mark  him  anywhere,  but 
he  managed  to  be  so  sober  in  his  dress  that  no  one  seemed  to 
notice  his  personal  peculiarities.  Another,  a  railroad  pick- 
pocket, excels  in  gaining  confidence  and  yet  leaving  scant 
recollection  of  his  dress  and  features.  One  scoundrel  known 
as  "the  mourner,"  and  his  wile  had  faces  thoroughly  adapted 
for  their  business,  which  was  to  pick  pockets  at  wakes  and 


CHAPTEK  XL. 


FORGERS  AND  THEIR  METHODS  —  WILY  DEVICES  AND  BRAINY 
SCHEMES  OF  A  DANGEROUS  CLASS  — TRICKS  ON  BANKS  — 
HOW  BUSINESS  MEN  ARE  DEFRAUDED. 

A  Crime  That  is  Easily  Perpetrated,  and  Detected  with  Difficulty  —  Pro- 
fessional Forgers  —  Men  of  Brains  —  Secret  Workshops  —  Raising  Checks 

—  A  Forger's  Agents  and  Go-betweens  —  The  Organization  of  a  Gang 

—  How  They  Cover  Their  Tracks  —  In  the  Clutches  of  Sharpers  —  The 
First  Step  in  Crime — Various  Methods  of  Passing  Forged  Paper  — 
Paving  the  Way  for  an  Operation  —  Dangerous  Schemes  —  Daring  and 
Clever  Forgeries  —  Interesting  Cases  —  How  Banks  are  Defrauded  —  Es- 
tablishing Confidence  with  a  Bank  —  A  Smart  Gang  —  Altering  and  Rais- 
ing Checks  and  Drafts  —  How  Storekeepers  aad  Business  Men  are  De- 
frauded—  Cashing  a  Burnt  Check  —  Crafty  and  Audacious  Forgers  — 
A  Great  Plot  Frustrated  —  Deceiving  the  Head  of  a  Foreign  Detective 
Bureau  —  A  Remarkable  Story  —  Startling  and  Unexpected  News  — 
Thrown  off  His  Guard  —  Escape  of  the  Criminal  and  His  Band. 

A DISTINGUISHED  and  learned  criminal  jurist  tersely  de- 
scribed forgery  as  "  the  false  making  or  materially  alter- 
ing, with  intent  to  defraud,  any  writing  which,  if  genuine, 
might  apparently  be  of  legal  efficacy  in  the  foundation  of  a 
legal  liability."  The  crime,  in  a  general  sense,  is  the  illegal 
falsification  or  counterfeiting  of  a  writing,  bill,  bond,  will,  or 
other  document,  and  the  statutes  generally  make  the  uttering 
or  using  the  forged  instruments  essential  to  the  offense.  The 
uttering  is  complete,  however,  if  an  attempt  is  made  to  use  the 
fraudulent  paper  as  intended,  though  the  forgery  be  discovered 
in  season  to  defeat  the  fraud  designed.  The  intent  to  deceive 
and  defraud  is  often  conclusively  presumed  from  the  forgery 
itself.  If  one  forge  a  name,  word,  or  even  figure  of  a  note, 
and  cause  it  to  be  discounted,  it  is  no  defense  whatever  to  the 
charge  of  forgery  that  he  intended  to  pay  the  note  himself, 
and  had  actually  made  provisions  that  no  person  should  be  in- 

43  (711) 


HOW  FORGERS  COVER  THEIR  TRACKS. 


713 


plied  as  a  means  for  transferring  fine  tracing,  delicate  engrav- 
ings, and  even  signatures. 

Although  plotting  and  planning  daring  work  for  others  to 
execute,  the  forger  keeps  himself  well  in  the  background,  and 
by  following  a  system  calculated  to  protect  himself  againsl  the 
annoyance  of  arrest  or  the  danger  of  conviction  he  runs  but 
few  risks.  He  keeps  aloof  from  the  several  members  of  his 
band,  and  in  most  cases  _ 
is  known  only  to  his    ,  .  ) 

manager,  who  is  the 
go-between  and  guid- 
ing- spirit  of  the  gang. 
This  system  is  one  of 
the  forger's  best  safe- 
guards, for  no  matter 
what  slip  there  may 
afterwards  be  in  the 
effort  to  secure  money 
upon  his  spurious  pa- 
per, he  is  able  to  baffle 
all  attempts  to  fasten 
the  foundation  of  the 
crime  upon  himself. 
He  employs  as  his  man- 
ager only  a  man  in 
whom  he  has  the  ut- 
most confidence,  who 
is  generally  a  person 
of  such  notoriously  bad  character  that  no  jury  would  accept 
his  uncorroborated  testimony  should  he  prove  unfaithful. 
There  have  been  instances,  however,  in  which  the  manager 
has  also  been  the  capitalist  and  leading  plotter.  Such  men 
are  to  be  found  in  the  best  walks  of  life,  and  their  means  of 
existence  is  often  a  mystery  to  their  friends.  They  have  care- 
fully guarded  ways  of  putting  the  forged  notes  into  the  hands 
of  the  agents  of  the  "layers-down,"  the  title  by  which  those 
who  finally  dispose  of  the  fraudulent  paper  are  known. 


UNDERGROUND  CELLS  FOR  USE  OP  THE  DETECT- 
IVE DEPARTMENT  AT  POLICE  HEADQUARTERS. 


732 


THE  NOTORIOUS  "  HUNGRY  JOE. 


Another  form  of  the  bunco  game  was  introduced  into  this 
country  some  years  ago  by  a  noted  sharper  who  successfully 
operated  throughout  the  West.  He  called  the  game  a  lottery, 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  there  is  no  lottery  about  it  at 
all.  The  game  is  so  simple,  and  apparently  honest,  that  even 
the  shrewdest  are  readily  induced  to  take  a  hand,  and  are  as 
readily  fleeced.  There  are  forty -three  spaces  upon  a  lay-out, 
thirteen  of  which  contain  stars  (conditional  prizes) ;  one  space 
is  blank,  and  the  remaining  twenty -nine  represent  prizes  rang- 
ing from  two  to  five  thousand  dollars.  The  game  can  be 
played  with  dice  or  cards.  The  latter  are  numbered  with  a 
series  of  small  numbers  ranging  from  one  to  six,  eight  of  which 
are  drawn  and  counted,  the  total  representing  the  number  of 
the  prize  drawn.  Should  the  victim  draw  a  star  number,  he 
is  allowed  the  privilege  of  drawing  again  by  putting  up  a 
small  amount  of  money.  He  is  generally  allowed  to  win  at  first, 
and  later  on  the  game  owes  him  from  one  to  five  thousand 
dollars.  This  is  when  he  draws  the  "  condition  prize,"  No.  27. 
The  conditions  are  that  he  must  put  up  five  hundred  dollars, 
or  as  much  as  the  dealer  thinks  he  will  stand.  This  is  explained 
to  him  as  necessary  to  save  what  he  has  already  won,  and  en- 
title him  to  another  drawing.  He  draws  again,  and  by  skillful 
counting  on  the  part  of  the  dealer  he  draws  the  "  blank  "  and 
loses  all. 

The  notorious  "  Hungry  Joe,"  is  a  most  persistent  and  im- 
pudent bunco-steerer,  who  has  victimized  more  people  by  the 
bunco  game  than  any  other  five  men  in  the  profession.  One 
of  his  exploits  was  the  robbing  of  Mr.  Joseph  Ramsden,  an 
elderly  English  tourist,  out  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars, 
in  the  following  manner  : 

Among  the  passengers  on  board  the  steamship  Gallia,  from 
Liverpool,  was  an  English  gentleman  past  the  prime  of  life,  of 
fine  appearance,  but  somewhat  in  ill-health.  He  stopped  at  a 
first-class  hotel  up-town.  One  afternoon  he  strolled  down 
town  on  Broadway,  and  was  sauntering  leisurely  along  when 
he  was  accosted  by  a  well-dressed  stranger  who  warmly 
grasped  him  by  the  hand  and  said, — 


ONE  OF  "HUNGRY  JOE's"  EXPLOITS. 


"Vhy,  how  do  you  do,  Mr.  Ramsden  2" 

The  latter  expressed  his  inability  to  recognize  the  stranger, 
but  the  affable  young  man  soon  put  the  old  gentleman  at  ease 
by  adding : 

"Oh,  you  don't  know  me;  I  forgot.  But  I  know  you  from 
hearsay.  My  name  is  Post  -Henry  F.  Post.  You  came  over 
in  my  uncle's  steamer  yesterday.  Captain  Murphy,  of  the 
Gallia,  is  my  uncle,  and  since  his  return  has  been  stopping  at 
my  lather's  residence.  lie  lias  spoken  of  you  to  us.  Indeed, 
he  has  said  so  much  about  you  and  of  your  shattered  health 
that  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I  had  known  you  a  long  time.  I 
could  not  help  recognizing  you  in  a  thousand  from  my  uncle's 
perfect  description  of  you.'' 

Mr.  Ramsden  had  had  a  very  pleasant  voyage  on  the 
Gallia,  during  which  Captain  Murphy  and  he  had  become 
very  friendly,  and  thus  he  was  not  surprised  that  the  gallant 
skipper  should  speak  of  him.  "Mr.  Post"  walked  arm-in-arm 
with  his  uncle's  English  friend,  chatting  pleasantly  and  point- 
ing out  prominent  business  houses,  until  they  reached  Grand 
street. 

"I  am  in  business  in  Baltimore  —  in  ladies'  underwear  and 
white  goods,"  said  Mr.  Post,  "  and  have  been  home  laying  in  a 
stock  of  goods.  I  should  much  like  to  remain  a  day  or  two 
longer  and  show  you  around,  but  I  am  sorry  that  I  must 
return  to  Baltimore  this  evening.  In  fact,  I  am  on  my  way 
now  to  get  my  ticket,  and  my  valise  is  already  in  the  ticket- 
office." 

It  needed  but  a  few  words  to  induce  the  elderly  gentleman 
to  accompany  Post  to  "the  ticket  office"  in  Grand  Street,  and 
the  two  soon  entered  a  room  on  that  street.  There  the  young 
man  bought  a  railroad  ticket  of  a  man  behind  the  counter. 

k>  And  now  my  valise,"  said  Post  to  the  ticket-seller. 

Throwing  the  bag  on  the  counter,  the  young  man  opened  it, 
saying  "  Here  are  some  muslins  that  can't  be  duplicated  in  Eng- 
land," and  exhibited  to  the  old  gentleman  some  samples  of 
that  fabric.  Near  the  bottom  of  the  bag  he  accidentally  came 
upon  a  pack  of  playing-cards,  seizing  which  he  exclaimed : 


734 


AN  IMPUDENT  RASCAL. 


uAh,  this  reminds  me.  Don't  you  know  that  last  night 
some  fellows  got  me  into  a  place  on  the  Bowery  and  skinned 
me  out  of  four  hundred  dollars  by  a  card-trick  in  which  they 
used  only  three  cards?  But  I've  got  on  to  the  game  and 
know  just  how  it  is  done.    They  can't  do  me  any  more." 

At  that  moment  a  man,  showily  dressed,  emerged  from  a 
back  room  and  said :  "  I'll  bet  you  ten  dollars  you  can't  do  it." 

"  All  right,  put  up  your  money,"  responded  Joe. 

The  cards  were  shuffled  by  the  deft  hands  of  the  stranger, 
and  Joe  was  told  to  pick  up  the  ace.  He  picked  up  a  jack  and 
lost.  He  lost  a  second  time,  and  offered  to  repeat  it,  but  the 
stranger  said,  "  I  don't  believe  you've  got  any  more  money." 

"  Well,  but  my  friend  here  (pointing  to  Mr.  Ramsden)  has." 

"  I  don't  believe  he  has,"  sneeringly  retorted  the  stranger. 

"  Oh,  yes  I  have,"  interrupted  the  venerable  Englishman, 
at  the  same  time  pulling  a  roll  of  ten  crisp  five-pound  notes 
from  his  inside  vest  pocket  and  holding  them  to  the  gaze  of  the 
others. 

The  temptation  was  too  great  for  Hungry  Joe,  who  so  far 
forgot  himself  and  his  uncle's  friendship  for  the  English  mer- 
chant that  he  hastily  grabbed  the  roll  from  Ramsden's  hand. 
The  latter  tightened  his  grasp  on  the  notes,  but  Joe  violently 
thrust  the  old  man  backwards,  and,  getting  possession  of  the 
money,  ran  out  of  the  place,  followed  by  his  confederates. 

Mr.  Ramsden  notified  the  Detective  Bureau  that  evening, 
giving  an  accurate  description  of  "  Captain  Murphy's  nephew," 
which  resulted  in  Hungry  Joe's  arrest.  Joe  was  sitting  in  his 
shirt-sleeves  in  the  basement  of  the  house,  quietly  smoking  a 
cigar,  and  resting  his  slippered  feet  on  a  chair.  He  tried  his 
old  game  of  bluff,  as  is  his  custom,  but,  finding  it  useless,  donned 
his  coat  and  boots  and  accompanied  me  to  headquarters. 

Mr.  Ramsden  was  at  once  summoned,  and  was  confronted 
in  my  room  by  Hungry  Joe  and  eight  other  men  and  asked  to 
select  the  swindler. 

tk  There  is  the  man,"  he  quickly  said,  pointing  to  Hungry 
Joe. 

"  I  never  saw  you  before,  sir,"  coolly  replied  Joe. 


ll(>\\    CLERGYMEN  A.RE  FLEECED. 


735 


"You  scoundrel,"  excitedly  exclaimed  Mr.  Ramsden,  "  you 
are  the  fellow  thai  robbed  me  of  my  money." 

The  evidence  against  Joe  was  conclusive,  and  in  court  he 
pleaded  guilty  and  was  sentenced  to  Pour  years  in  State  prison. 


CHIEF  INSPECTOR  EYRNES'S  PRIVATE  ItOOM  AT  POLICE  HEADQUARTERS. 


Another  equally  notorious  character  succeeded  in  swindling 
an  Episcopal  clergyman  by  handing  him  a  forged  letter  of  in- 
troduction from  another  minister  in  Cleveland,  whose  name  he 
had  discovered  in  a  church  almanac.  The  letter  read :  "My 
brother  is  buying-  books  for  me.  Please  honor  his  draft  for 
$100,  and  thereby  do  me  a  great  favor."  The  preacher  thought 
it  was  all  right,  and  said  that  he  was  glad  to  meet  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Watt's  brother,  and  gave  the  desired  check  only  to  discover  a 
little  later  on  that  he  had  been  neatly  swindled. 


C5  u 


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THE   LIBRARY  STYLE. 


The  Library  style  is  extremely  durable,  and  is  one  of  th  h<  si  of  bi/irfinys.  It  comes 
ouly  a  little  higher  than  the  Extra  Cloth,  and  it  is  well  worth  the  difference- 
It  will  stand  hard  and  constant  usage,  and  will  last  a  lifetime.  The  strip  of  leather 
opposite  shows  the  quality  of  the  leather  used.  It  is  the  full  Ihickness  of  the  skin, 
and  is  of  extra  quality.  Many  publishers  use  split  skins  known  as  "  skivers,"  be- 
cause they  cost  only  half  as  much  as  full  skins.  Books  bound  in  skivers  are  a  fraud 
upon  the  public.  The  publishers  guarantee  that  every  copy  of  the  Library  style  of 
this  book  is  bound  in  whole  skin  of  tin  rery  best  quality.  ddiP  This  is  an  important 
fact  for  subscribers  to  know. 


n 


DARKNESS 

AND 

DAYLIGHT 

IN 

NEW  YORK 


TWO  HUNDRED  AND  FIFTY 
ORIGINAL  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PROM 

PHOTOGRAPHS  FROM  LIFE 


